Crashed
by Ta Paixao
Summary: Bella's plane crashes over the pacific ocean. When she wakes, her world is irrevocably altered. A lovely and vaguely familiar stranger shatters the life she's known, revealing startling truths and a terrifying deception. In the middle of nowhere, she is being hunted. All-human. BxE story, of course. Adult content and subject matter.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

**A/N:** Consider this story only for the brave and sturdy. There will be a high body count and lots of drama. I make no promises for any of these characters, and no topic will be too taboo. If you're still interested, read on.

* * *

**Prologue**

Carnage; that's the only word I can think to describe the scene that was laid out before me on the wind-tossed beach. Screams of desperation and agony were barely audible over the deafening thunder of the plane's jet engines. All around me, mutilated bodies stained the white sand with the thick red evidence of extinguished life. Among them, discarded remnants of the plane's exterior were twisted and strewn about like flimsy wrapping paper. Exploded overhead bins, having expelled their contents, left personal essentials scattered haphazardly.

Chaos and panic dictated the actions of those who frantically ran in disjointed paths in search of companions. The distinct expression of horror, unique to every face and yet still the same, was evident on those who wandered in bewilderment.

But then there was one, a blonde man with blood dripping down his forehead and his polo shirt torn on one side to reveal a gash across his abdomen, who seemed to have found purpose and direction in the hysteria. I fixated on him, for some inconsequential reason, as he urged able-bodied survivors to carry others away from the wreckage while stopping to consult between those dead and some still clinging to life. More often then not, his efforts left an unmoving corpse behind.

Six days ago, I'd never ventured outside the western United States. I'd never seen a dead body or smelled the assaulting odor of burnt flesh taint the air and mingle with the oppressive sting of jet fuel. I had just started to live my life, and it would seem I'd waited too long.

**Chapter 1**

"Attention passengers," the gate agent announced over the speaker in a gentle Aussie accent, "we must inform you that flight 615 to Honolulu boarding at gate 19 is over capacity."

I rolled my eyes and nudged Angela to take out her ear buds. "Overbooked," I told her when she glanced up from her phone. A collective groan of disapproval emerged from the passengers surrounding us as we shared a look of resignation.

Our celebratory trip to Sydney, Australia after graduating from UDub two weeks ago had been one disaster after another. This latest revelation was par for the course. I should have known we couldn't escape from down under without one last hiccup.

"We are asking for volunteers to be transferred to another carrier on flight 908 departing in two hours. Any ticketed passengers willing to give up their seats will be compensated with two complimentary tickets on any future round-trip flight and meal vouchers for your layover."

"Hey, that's not a bad deal," Angela remarked. "We should do it."

My best friend since junior year of high school when I moved from Phoenix to Forks to live with my dad, Angela had a remarkable optimism about her. Despite the airline losing our luggage when we landed in Sydney six days ago, the hotel losing our reservation, and getting stung by a jelly fish, she didn't let her smile falter once during our trip.

"Charlie had to take the day off work to make the trip to SeaTac to pick me up when we land. I can't wait until Honolulu to call and reschedule. He hates it when I change plans mid course."

"It would be nice to snag a couple free tickets," she responded hopefully, "I could go visit Ben in New York."

Ben, another of our friends and her high school sweetheart since senior year, was accepted to grad school on scholarship at Columbia. The two of them were setting out on a long-distance relationship for the next two years while Angela completed her master's degree at the University of Washington.

"Go for it," I encouraged her. "I can fend for myself for a while."

"You're sure? I don't want to abandon you to sit next to some screaming baby or snoring old man."

"Really. You're right; you and Ben need those tickets. I'll put in my ear buds and sleep the whole way anyhow."

"You're the best, Bella." Angela smiled widely, leaving her seat to approach the gate agent's desk.

After her new flight was arranged and mine began to board, we said our temporary goodbyes. Despite the headaches we endured during our first international expedition, the vacation was a satisfying one. We'd made a pact to try new things and return home without regrets. To the best of our ability, I think we accomplished that.

In the general vicinity of my assigned row, I paused at an open overhead bin to wrestle with my rolling carry on bag. For some reason, no matter how coordinated you are, everyone suddenly becomes completely incompetent when there is a line of impatient onlookers waiting for you to get on with it and get the hell out of their way.

I growled under my breath when the stupid thing refused to slide into place above me and considered just tossing it out the emergency exit as a sacrifice to the aboriginal gods for safe passage home.

"Here," A deep voice spoke beside me. My bag dropped back out of the bin but was quickly caught and tamed by a beast of a guy with broad shoulders and six inches too many to stand upright in the cabin. "They spring load these bins just to mess with us."

The guy, who was maybe just a couple years older than me with short brown hair, smiled as he easily shoved my ornery bag into place. As he did, the dimples in his cheeks creased adorably.

"Thank you," I replied gratefully and quickly moved down to my row. The other passengers were getting restless with my inept antics. I had the sense the entire airport had paused with bated breath while I was thoroughly manhandled by my uncooperative carry on.

When I reached seat 16A, I was met with another man of above average height; this one warming a seat that didn't belong to him.

"Um…I think you're in my seat."

He glanced up at me from the in-flight magazine with dark eyes and a boyish grin of ultra white teeth that nearly glowed against his darkly tan skin. "Any chance you'll trade me for the window?"

"The window's my favorite," I told him without sympathy. I booked my seat weeks in advance to make sure I didn't get stuck crammed in the middle seat or bumped in the aisle by the beverage cart. "Sorry."

Without argument, he slid out of the row to let me in and then took the middle seat. I sort of felt bad for him being so tall and smashed in the center with little legroom, but it wasn't like the window afforded any better option.

I settled into my seat and shoved my backpack to the floor in front of me. Before I was fully strapped in, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn't have to look at the screen to know who would be calling me.

"Mom," I answered with a sigh, "These calls are going to cost me a fortune."

"I told you, send me the bill when it comes in and I'll take care of it. I just wanted to make sure you made your flight on time."

Renee sounded frazzled and nearly out of breath. Last I heard she'd taken up some kickboxing aerobic class or something. I stopped trying to keep up with her ever-changing hobbies a long time ago. No doubt by the time I landed in Seattle, she'd have moved on to something new.

"Our flight was full so Angela volunteered to get bumped to the next one. i'll still fly out of Honolulu to SeaTac, though."

"Are you sure you're okay alone? It's a long flight."

"I'm good, mom." Not like there was anything to be done about it now. "Besides, I've got my iPad to keep me entertained."

"Okay, sweetie. I miss you. I can't wait to see you. Phil and I are all set to come visit you in two weeks and we can go shopping and…"

The flight attendant's voice came over the speaker announcing that the doors were closing and all passengers needed to take their seats.

"Hey, mom, I've got to go. We're about to push back from the gate. I'll text you from Hawaii, okay?"

"Have a safe trip, Bella. I love you."

"Love you," I answered and then quickly powered off my phone as a blonde flight attendant gave me the stink eye.

A few minutes later, we were in the air and climbing to cruising altitude over the Pacific. While the cabin crew went through the usual spiel, indicating the safety features of the Boeing 777, the window seat thief next to me leaned in to whisper, "You're headed to Seattle?"

"Uh, yeah," I nodded. "Why?"

His seemingly permanent smile spread wide. With coal black hair, nearly black eyes, and considerable muscle tone, the guy could have passed for twenty-five. However, the roundness of his cheeks suggested he was a bit younger than his size let on.

"Fun coincidence, that's all. I'm on my way home to Washington, too."

"Oh yeah? You live in the city?"

"No," he chuckled softly, "you've probably never heard of where I'm from. It's about fifty miles north of the middle of nowhere."

"Can't be any more backwoods than where I grew up," I told him confidently. "I moved to Seattle for college, but I mostly grew up in Forks."

"Bullshit," he exclaimed too loudly. The middle-aged and balding man next to him shot an admonishing look at us. "How did you do that?"

"What?"

"There's no way. Prove it," he dared.

"Uh, I don't get it." I frowned in confusion at the guy's look of disbelief. "Why would I make that up?"

"I live on the Quileute reservation just outside of Forks. Trust me," he smirked, "I would have remembered you."

"You're kidding."

"The captain has now turned off the seatbelt sign and you are free to move about the cabin," a voice announced. "Food and beverage service will begin shortly, and you will find a list of available entertainment options in the in-flight magazine in your seatback pocket. Wi-Fi access can be purchased for an additional charge."

I unlatched my seatbelt and bent down to retrieve my iPad from my backpack. Quickly, I swiped through my photo album to find a picture of Angela and I at high school graduation four years ago. We were standing with Ben and a group of our friends in front of the school gym with the commencement banner in the background.

"See? I speak the truth," I smiled as I showed him my indisputable evidence.

"That's amazing. How did we never meet? I mean, Forks is a small place. Didn't you ever go down to La Push?"

"Well, my parents divorced when I was three, so I ended up in Phoenix with my mom. I moved back to live with my dad my junior year of high school and then left for college after that."

"Who's your dad? Maybe I know him."

"If you do, I might not want to know you," I smirked playfully. He furrowed his brow, not catching my meaning, obviously. "Charlie's the chief of police," I explained. "So unless you get into a lot of trouble—"

"You're Bella Swan?" He leaned back, scanning me up and down like I was Cinderella transforming for the ball right in front of him.

"Okay, stalker much?"

"Bella, I'm Jake. Billy Black's son. We used to play together when we were in diapers."

Somehow, thousands of miles and an ocean away from home, I was serendipitously seated next to a forgotten childhood playmate. The odds of such an occurrence were astronomical, if not utterly improbable. I didn't truly remember him or our escapades as toddlers, neither of us could retain such memories, but apparently I had been the topic of conversation over the years.

Yeah, I knew Billy, and that he had a son two years younger than me, but I'd quickly become too immersed in my own circle of friends to ever accompany Charlie down to the reservation or hang around the house much when Billy came over to watch the game on the flat screen. It almost seemed a conspiracy that Jacob Black and I had never managed to reconnect since I moved back to Forks. Of course, then we couldn't have spent the next two hours trading stories at 30,000 feet and meeting as travel companions.

And to think, I'd almost taken a different flight.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

**A/N:** Under the Blood Moon has been nominated over at www . twifanfictionrecs . com. Thanks to whomever put my story up there. If you're so inclined, go vote and check out the other great fics completed in January.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

I became abruptly aware that I'd dozed off when a shudder tore through the cabin and startled me awake. My head jerked up to see I had fallen asleep on Jake's shoulder, my iPad still playing the movie we'd picked out of my iTunes after I offered to share my ear buds.

"Sorry," I muttered as I settled back on my side of the armrest. Involuntary blush rose over my cheeks for having invaded his space and made myself quite at home on his muscular bicep.

Jake smiled that innocently charming way of his, reaching out to pause the movie and pull his ear bud out. "No worries. You didn't snore or anything. I hardly noticed the drool."

I swiped at the corner of my mouth, horrified and thoroughly embarrassed. "I'm kidding." Jake chuckled, enjoying my humiliation.

Another rumbling shimmy jostled the plane, this one stronger. Reflexively, I latched onto the armrest on my left side and Jake's forearm on my right until the shaking ceased.

"It's okay," Jake assured me as I squeezed the blood from victimized arm. "Just turbulence."

I took several deep breaths, nodding my head in understanding. Seconds later, my nerves were still tingling with anxiety. "I know," I replied shakily. "I've never gotten used to that." I released his arm with a contrite smile. "Sorry again."

Over the speaker, the flight crew asked passengers to take their seats and buckle in until we passed through the rough air. I glanced out the window, seeing nothing but clouds and blue water below us.

"Don't sweat it," he answered, easily shrugging off my overfamiliarity with the touching.

The plane suddenly dropped altitude and shuddered angrily, causing that hated sinking feeling in my stomach that had my eyes clenching shut until we leveled off. My breath caught in my throat while my heart climbed to meet the trapped air.

"So what were you doing in Sydney?"

"Huh?" Answering his question forced out my breath. I dragged my eyes from my knees to meet his calm expression.

"Your trip," he answered encouragingly, "any special reason?"

"Uh…college graduation present, sort of. My parents gave me money to take a vacation with my best friend."

"What was your major?"

"Biology."

"You're a science nerd, huh? Why biology?"

I paused, biting my lip as I deliberated over his curiosity. He raised an expectant eyebrow as if I'd left him hanging on the punch line of a joke.

"You really want to know?"

"Sure," he shrugged noncommittally. "And it might help you to remember to breath if I keep you talking."

"Ah. I guess I'm a little prone to spazzing on planes." Jake smiled but didn't embarrass me further by lingering on my admission.

"Well, I was always good at life sciences in high school," I answered. "Physics was totally beyond me. My math skills are…well, not stellar." I gave Jake a goofy grin for my pun.

"Nice," he chuckled.

"Anyway, I don't really know what I want to be when I grow up. I'm going to start my master's degree next semester, and I've been accepted to the graduate biology program, but I still have to pick a concentration area."

"So you do what? Petri dishes and stuff like that? I bet you're cute in a lab coat."

If it weren't for Jacob's boyish features and nonchalance, that line might have put me off. Instead, I found him endearing. He kept prodding me for information on a subject that was probably boring him to death, though I did manage to get my pulse back down to a tolerable level as the plane continued to ride through turbulent air.

"Hey," he interrupted me as I began to talk about Angela and our plans to move out of the dorms and into a new apartment off campus. "Did you feel that?"

"What?"

"We're turning." Jacob leaned forward and titled his head to look out my window. Sure enough, the plane banked to the left over the middle of the Pacific with nothing but endless ocean in every direction.

"Maybe we're circling?" I glanced at my watch, not certain how long I'd been asleep, but saw we should have had two more hours on our flight to Honolulu. "Or just a course correction to get around the turbulence."

"Yeah, maybe." Jacob sat back, looking somewhat wary.

"What about you? Are you in school?" I'd monopolized the conversation for the entirety of the trip while I was conscious. Other than being Billy's son and living on the reservation, I didn't know much about grownup Jake.

"I'm taking a few classes at the community college. I can only afford to go part-time because I'm working to pay my own way. After two older sisters, there wasn't much left to send me to school. I've got a job working at my buddy's auto shop, though. It's not much, but I make enough for school and helping Billy around the house."

"How'd you learn to do that? Did Billy teach you?"

"No. I just started fiddling around with this old junk truck we had as a hobby. You know, not much to do back home. I guess I just taught myself. After I totally rebuilt the engine in the Chevy, I restored an old VW Rabbit and a couple of dirt bikes."

"I admire that," I told him honestly. Sure, it wasn't glamorous, but people who could fix things and build something were far more useful in a society than another business major or wannabe advertising executive. I'd never been especially good at working with my hands, hence being a book nerd.

"If you ever need a mechanic that won't overcharge you or call you Little Lady, you know where to find me."

"Charlie is picking me up in Seattle, so I'll be back in Forks hanging out with him for a couple days. You and your dad should come by the house. I'm sure there has to be some game on this weekend, right?"

"Are you asking me out on a double date with our dads?" Jake's eyebrow raised with his cocky smirk. Though I rolled my eyes at his obvious joke, a smile broke out over my lips.

"Whatever. I was just offering to cook a real meal. I know Charlie lives on Harry's fish fry, pizza, and the diner while I'm at school. I'm willing to bet you and Billy don't eat much better than he does."

"Sold."

xXx

Shock. I was undoubtedly in a state of shock as my ears rang with the shrill noise of unfathomable calamity. For whatever span of time I crouched in the sand observing the violent pandemonium around me, I determined to force a stop to the debilitating paralysis. Others, those able to move despite a myriad of injuries, were organizing and tending to needy victims. As I conducted a mental inventory of my body, I realized I had no excuse for curling into a ball and waiting for death or my fairy godmother. I was still functioning, and therefore had an obligation to do something useful, anything helpful.

Ten seconds, I announced to my limbs, erratically racing heart, and disjointed mind. "Ten seconds and you are getting up. Ten more seconds of being afraid and then you are locking it up and shoving it down. Count."

I took a deep breath, wincing at the stench. With my eyes clutched tight, I started to count aloud. Maybe I thought putting a voice to the demand would better instigate myself to comply.

"One. Two. Three…"

Lingering on exactly what had occurred what thoroughly pointless. It didn't matter, did it? However our plane fell from the sky to crash on this spit of land was irrelevant. By some miracle or physical anomaly, some of us had survived. Now, the only important course of action was tending to needy victims. I could freak out later, when I was alone and darkness threatened us. I could cry and fall apart once we'd separated the living from the tragically departed. I wasn't dead yet.

"Eight. Nine. Ten."

Through sheer force of will, I shoved myself up from the ground and searched the chaos for the blonde man. I guessed he was a doctor, making him the most logical source of direction on how to proceed. From where my eyes first opened to this scene of complete anarchy, I was several yards away from the largest pieces of the wreckage and the majority of passengers.

Quickly, I spotted the doctor ordering two men to carry a woman to the tree line. Issuing another desperate command to my shaky legs, I ran over the softened ground toward the dismembered albatross and her breath of spewing smoke.

If possible, the horrible odor worsened as I neared the worst of the fallout. I forced back my gag reflex and pulled the collar of my shirt over my nose to try and keep the choking smoke from entering my lungs in heavy gasps. Before I reached the blonde man, I was diverted by the desperate cry of another woman. She was pinned under a section of strut that had broken off of the plane, presumably the landing gear. I ran to her out of instinct, but with no clear plan as to how I could help her.

"Please," she screamed with all the effort of her vocal cords, "help me. I'm stuck. I can't move." As I crouched down beside her, I looked over her body, which was half buried in the sand as if she'd been forcibly embedded with the power of the impact to the earth.

The woman, maybe forty or so, had blood smeared over her face and neck. Her hair was matted against her cheek and sprinkled with sand and soot. I took her free hand, clutching it tightly as he squeezed mine in return. And then I realized I had absolutely no idea what to do.

"I'm here. I'm going to help you," I assured her. My will to help was sincere, even if my ability was questionable at best. She continued to plead, as if begging was necessary. "What's your name?"

"Kate," she sobbed hopelessly.

"I'm Bella." I tired for a smile, like that might somehow magically calm the poor woman, but I just didn't have the energy to fake it convincingly. "I need to get more help, okay? I can't get you out by myself. I promise I will come right back. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she answered immediately. I'm sure I could have asked her for her firstborn child and she'd have agreed just the same. Really, what else can you do in such a dire situation? "Please help me. I can't…I don't think I can feel my legs."

"I'm coming back." I locked my eyes on her withering gaze and communicated my solemn promise. Whether or not she'd last long enough was another matter. "I promise."

Peeling my hand out of hers, I quickly searched the immediate area for the doctor. Unfortunately, I couldn't locate him. Instead, I saw a huge guy come barreling down the beach and decided he was my next best option.

"Hey!" I called out to him, waving my arms to get his attention. "I need your help. There's a woman trapped over here."

He glanced over his shoulder, pausing for only a moment, and then proceeded toward me. Other than a few scrapes on his face and some torn clothing, he looked healthy enough. More importantly, he had the appearance of significant strength, which was my need at the moment.

He followed me back to Kate, inspecting her predicament. "Maybe we can dig her out from under it. Just slide her out the side?" I met his dark brown eyes with my hopeful suggestion. Lifting the mangled apparatus seemed an impossible feat to accomplish.

"That'll take too long." He settled into a squat, holding the lowest point of one of the struts and taking a deep breath. With a feral roar, he tried to lift the heap of metal from the helpless body beneath it. It budged, barely, but not enough to make a difference. "I need another guy. Maybe a couple more. Or a lever of some kind."

"I'll get help," I nodded as I launched to my feet and took off running without waiting for an answer. Truthfully, I felt better about moving than watching Kate suffer.

Perhaps it was the result of being an only child, or maybe I just had too much of my dad in me, but I wasn't great at offering emotional support. My ability to keep my own hysteria under wraps was crumbling. Every second I stared into the suffering blue eyes of Kate's face, my handle on stability wavered.

No, I wouldn't be any help to her while she waited to die. Instead, I could gather help and search for something to pry her free. I could be useful as long as I kept moving and didn't stop long enough to think about what we were all facing.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Unmoving corpses and wailing injured far outnumbered able-bodied men who looked as though they had the strength to be of use in saving Kate. Since the defensive line of the Seattle Seahawks didn't happen to be on our flight, I opted for snagging any man who was walking under his own power. In all, I directed three more to her position near the largest pieces of the wreckage.

My next priority was sifting through the broken bits and scattered remnants to locate anything sturdy enough to use as a lever. I scoured the shore for a pipe or steel bar, but came up empty. With a purpose to occupy my mind, I nearly tuned out the yelling and screaming around me. Nearly. The noise, however, had abated somewhat. Only for the briefest moment did I ponder the meaning of the relative quiet. Had the voices been silenced by death, or was the worst of the panic calming to resolve and triage?

Thinking that perhaps I could pry something out of the plane itself, I moved toward the section of fuselage that was laid out, upside-down, in a deep trench of displaced sand. Both ends were jaggedly severed from the front and rear cabin. Thus far, I hadn't seen any indications of the nose or tail sections. Come to think of it, I couldn't recall the actual crash at all.

Ripped lengths of wires hung like moss from the upended belly of the plane. The metal of the outer hull was ripped and torn away like pieces of paper from the grounded behemoth. Around the wreck, the sand was wet with jet fuel. But as I got closer, my eyes met a horrendous reality. Several passengers were hanging suspended in their seats with arms dangling lifelessly. They never made it out—dead on impact. Blood dripped down as if water from stalactites in a morbid cave-turned-tomb.

I wanted to run from the horrific scene that somehow struck me as all the more tragic than those scattered on the beach. I issued an order for my legs to rush me away from the private resting place of the departed. And yet, all I could do was stare. At that point, I should have had some profound sense of enlightenment about the fragility of life. It would have been appropriate to send up some silent prayer for their souls and gratitude for my own life. Instead, I only thought of who would remove and bury the bodies, and then how long it was appropriate to wait to scavenge the remaining luggage inside.

Survival mode is its own morbidity.

"Bella!"

I heard my name, barely, as I tried to convince my eyes to blink or my head to turn me away from the macabre vision before me.

"Bella. Holy shit, you're alive."

Before I saw the impact coming, I was smashed against a hard chest of muscular man. Two thick arms constricted around me to squeeze the air from my lungs and pop a few vertebrae in my back. In my disjointed state, it took a few seconds before I realized whom he was and what I was supposed to be doing before I paused to contemplate the practicality and polite procedures of stripping a tin can of dead bodies.

Just like my dad. Plan, act, and then feel it later.

I allowed my arms to wrap around Jacob and reciprocate his relief, because I was relieved to see him. I wasn't entirely alone here, for however long this trauma might play out. On an island of traveling strangers thrown together by tragedy, I had one connection to home and family. There was one person I knew I could trust.

Jacob pulled back and held me at arms length as his dark eyes scanned me up and down. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I answered with a nod. All things considered, I guess I was one of the lucky ones. "Nothing hurts." I hadn't stopped to thoroughly inspect myself, but I was moving around easily enough.

"What about you?" Jake had dirt and blood matted in his hair and on the front of his black T-shirt. There were a few cuts on his arms and one across his cheek, but he was certainly better off than others I'd seen stumbling up the shore.

"I'm okay. Come on, you don't need to see this." He grabbed my hand and tugged me away from the cabin. It was at that point that I remembered my mission wasn't complete.

"Wait!" I jerked to a halt. "There's a woman over there. She's trapped and I was gathering people to help her."

"Show me."

I led him down the beach to where I left Kate. When we approached, the three men I'd sent were standing around her. The doctor was kneeling with his back to us and the first man was hovering with despondent look on his face. I remembered him as the one who had helped me stow my bag on the plane when I boarded.

All hope for Kate's survival escaped me as Jacob and I stopped a few feet from the group. The doctor stood, hanging his head, and then walked away. Her body remained just as I'd found her; trapped under the crushing steel of the fragmented landing gear. Kate's formerly sky blue eyes were closed, signifying her departure from the torment of the living castoffs.

"She—" My voice choked off as I searched the faces around me for the obvious answer that didn't really need to be stated out loud. Jacob wrapped his arm around my shoulder and cradled me to his chest. It wasn't until he started whispering against my hair that I realized I was crying. Sobbing, actually.

Dead bodies pouring blood on the sand were one thing. A woman whose eyes I looked into and promised to help—one who expired while I ineffectually scrambled around—was dead. She was talking and pleading for her life one moment and then silent the next. That simple realization broke through my tempered reaction to my present circumstances.

"Come with me, Bella. Let's find somewhere to sit down so I can check you out." Jacob pulled me along toward the tree line where a dozen others were sitting with looks that ranged from resignation to despair.

A thought struck me forcefully as I contemplated the huddled groupings of twos and threes. I didn't want to be one of them. I detested the idea of sitting down and waiting for something to happen. Worse, I loathed the notion there was nothing left but to accept our uncertain fate. I wasn't ready to feel it yet.

With that decided, I tamped down my tears for Kate and swiped the moisture from my face. Jacob paused when I pulled from his hold and planted my feet. His curious and careful expression searched mine.

"I can't," I stated simply. "Not yet."

He deliberated over me for a moment, but apparently understood my meaning and decided not to argue with me. "Okay."

Jacob followed me toward the doctor, who was crouched over another woman with a significant gash over her left eye. I hesitated for a few seconds before approaching the blonde man to gather my composure. Normally, I got sick at the sight of so much blood. The coppery tinge to the expulsion of blood had always made me nauseous. Perhaps it was the smoke and wind, or just the sheer amount of exposure I'd endured in such a short time, but it appeared I was suitably desensitized for the moment.

"I want to help," I announced succinctly.

The doctor looked up, allowing me the first opportunity to truly examine his features at close range. He looked young, maybe early thirties, with soft bone structure and crystal blue eyes.

Without a smile or much change in his expression at all, he simply nodded and spoke calmly with a patient voice. "I need anything that can serve as bandages; clean, dry fabric torn from clothing will work. I also need antiseptic or any kind of alcohol, fresh water, and sewing kits. Search the luggage."

"Yeah," I nodded, "I can do that." Searching was good; I liked the idea of actively hunting rather than sitting still.

Together, Jacob and I sifted through pieces of luggage tossed about the beach. We collected several articles of cotton clothing that were still clean for having been concealed in unopened bags. Rather than stopping to look through individual toiletry bags, we simply tossed as many as we could find into a large backpack.

"Look at that!" Jake yanked on my arm and led me toward a large metal box sticking up out of the sand by one corner. Quickly, Jacob fell to his knees and started digging around the outside of the box. I realized it was a beverage cart and dropped to the ground to help him uncover the rest of the cabinet.

"There's vodka. That's good, right?" Jake opened the backpack and shoveled handfuls of any clear bottles of liquor he was able to salvage from the cart.

"We can use it for sterilization, but its better to flush out the wounds with water. Alcohol will kill the good cells."

I emptied the other side of the cart of every bottle of water, as well as all juices. No, the juice wasn't any good for cuts, but the sugar and hydration would help, even if it were warm. Depending on how much water we consumed in treating injuries, we'd run out before any of us had a drink.

Satisfied with our first haul, we returned to the doctor. We found him at the tree line examining a man's leg, which appeared to be broken.

"This is everything we've found so far," I announced as Jacob dropped the bag beside the doctor. "There's soft clothing that can be torn fairly easily, water, little liquor bottles, and about seven or eight toiletry bags."

"That's perfect," he responded pleasantly. Remarkably, this man hadn't lost any of his bedside manners, despite the open wound on his abdomen that was still dripping blood.

Two others were holding down the injured man; one, the burly man who'd first helped me, and the other a thinner guy with shaggy blonde hair. The doctor's patient had a broken piece of a wide stick in his mouth, which he bit into with an agonized groan as the doctor went about trying to set his leg.

I couldn't watch the poor guy suffer, so I grabbed Jacob to resume our mission further down the beach. Together, we filled two more backpacks with mostly clothing and toiletries. The single beverage cart was all we found on the shore. While I returned to the doctor, Jacob volunteered to climb through the section of cabin to search for anything else of immediate necessity. I didn't envy his task, but oddly admired his ability to put aside the grotesque nature of the duty in order to help those who were still in a position to benefit from anything he'd find in there.

Dusk approached quickly on our isolated beach. The sun began to descend beyond the waves that lapped at the disfigured shore of carnage and destruction. After the figurative and literal dust had settled from the initial shock and turmoil of it all, 17 passengers were all that remained of the 300 people aboard the capacity flight.

Before the last plumes of smoke from the roaring turbines had dissipated and the engines stopped their angry cry, a group built up a massive signal fire. The wooden pyre of orange heat towered in the center of our gathering company. In trios and pairs, a few approaching individually, we all gathered around the fire and sat in the sand or on articles of luggage.

Fires traditionally signified life, hope, and survival. To me, as I allowed Jacob to wrap his arm over my shoulder and pull me toward him, the fire was a symbol of the reality I was reluctant to face. It was a signal fire to call rescuers. We'd spent the several daytime hours in rapid assessment of the dead, dying, and injured. With night falling on our banished brood, the truth was inescapable. We were stranded on some indeterminate beach in the middle of the Pacific.

There was nothing left to do but survive long enough to be found. The most depressing and frustrating part was that I had no concept of what that timeline should look like. At what point would we be missing too long? Days? Weeks?

I glanced at my watch.

"We should be boarding in Honolulu right now," I whispered to Jake. "Angela would have been looking for me in the airport. We were taking separate flights out, but we were going to meet up during our layover."

"They're looking for us," he answered confidently. "Your dad's got the entire Pacific fleet searching for you."

And for the second time since waking up to the gore and pandemonium, I let the emotion take over and cried into Jake's shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Day 1 **

**17 Survivors**

Twilight crept over the beach, casting the last of the hidden sun's refracted light across the shore in a dim glow. By the flickering illumination of the mighty fire, I could see the silence on every face. All stared, unseeing, at the flames licking at the arranged tower of branches and driftwood. For more than an hour, no one uttered a sound louder than a shaky breath, muffled sob, or defeated sigh.

The summer evening was balmy. A gentle sea breeze blew off the water, cooling the overexposed areas of my skin that had become red and tender under the daylight. Come to think of it, were we in summer latitude for early July? It was winter in the Southern Hemisphere, but I didn't know if we'd made it above the Equator before falling out of the sky.

That brought to mind a complex problem, and one that was of importance to my general peace of mind: where were we?

Total trip time between Sydney and Honolulu was scheduled for about nine hours. However, last I could accurately recall, we were still two hours from Hawaii when I woke up on the plane. How long after that did we crash? I remembered the turbulence and the plane executing a turn to the left, or west, as it were. But after that...nothing until I found myself prone on the sand to witness the aftermath.

"Jake?" I glanced up to look at his face shrouded in partial shadow that had the effect of aging his features several years. Or maybe it was the events of the day that stripped the boyishness from the 21-year-old's appearance. "Do you remember it? Anything at all?"

"Not much," he shrugged. His eyes focused past the fire, as if searching back through the sequence to find the moment of impact. "I remember the shaking. The whole plane sort of rattled and then there was this loud bang. Some of the overhead bins popped open and the luggage went flying around the cabin." His steady gaze settled on me again, all the while I tried to dig out a similar recollection, but it was blank. "Then I woke up under the trees."

"I remember the crash," a tiny voice announced from across the circle. "I remember all of it."

She was just a little sprite of a thing, with short brown hair that just touched her pointed chin and a perfectly slight nose. A ripped length of white fabric was wrapped around her head, apparently concealing a wound on her forehead. All curious eyes turned to her, as she was the first to speak in a voice louder than a hushed murmur. I didn't realize that Jacob and I were conversing loud enough to be heard by the others.

The woman, who was the sort that could pass for anywhere between twelve and twenty-five, sat directly in a divot of sand with her knees curled up to her chest. She was alone; the others in her general vicinity around the fire had given her a wide berth, which struck me as odd. Obviously she didn't have a surviving companion, if she were traveling with someone at all. Nevertheless, I found it unfortunate that no one had offered her any sort of small comfort by at least sitting next to her.

"We turned to the west," Jacob answered her, almost like a question seeking confirmation.

"Yes," she nodded. "The turbulence calmed for a while. We were in the air for another hour before the sound you described."

"It felt like something hit us," the big guy who'd helped me with my luggage and first attempted to free Kate interjected. He was seated a few feet to my right next to the blonde guy with the shaggy, sort of wavy hair that I'd sent to help her. "And then all the lights went out."

"We lost power," the sprite nodded wistfully. "The plane went into a dive and then spun into a free fall." She paused for a moment. A faraway expression overtook her delicate features while her dark eyes glossed over. She looked in my general direction, but not really at me. "The tail section broke off first, right behind the bathrooms at row thirty. I was sitting in row twenty-eight."

She survived by what, six feet? Eight? Such a small measurement meant the significant distance between her life and death. That began to put things into perspective for me, like the miles between splashing down in the ocean and colliding with this island. If not for a perfectly placed spot of land, we could have all drowned by now.

"The forward two-thirds of the plane were in tact when we first bounced off the ground," she continued. Her voice was calm and quiet; recalling our horrific ordeal to a captive audience riveted to her every softly spoken word. "Then the plane was upended and the forward section of the cabin broke off."

Her eyes focused on me with a strange sort of determination and familiarity. I blinked uncomfortably as she stared in silence for a few brief seconds. "You two were sitting right up front," she told me with certainty. "Row 16." Her eyes released mine and looked toward the severed section of the cabin several yards away. "It happened just like it was supposed to."

"What the hell does that mean?" Jacob sat forward, instantly agitated by her pronouncement. "How was any of this supposed to happen?"

"Jake," I put my hand on his shoulder, "calm down. I'm sure she didn't mean it like that."

"I'd like to hear the answer." Another blonde guy, this one with an Aussie accent, his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and wearing a distressed leather jacket that was out of place in our current predicament, narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the unaffected pixie. She paid no attention to the air that was shifting around her.

"Planes are designed to break apart in sections," a man with a Jamaican accent proclaimed. "Think of it like a limousine: a town car is cut in half and then the additional length is added in the center of the chassis. An airliner is similar in that it is constructed in sections. The nose, the cockpit, the forward cabin, the middle, the rear and tail section. Because the tail represents an unbalanced weight drag in a free fall, it is natural that section would separate first."

He looked kindly at the woman who'd unwittingly instigated the suspicion of Jacob and Leather Jacket. "As she said, that's the way it is supposed to happen."

And then a redheaded woman asked the question we were all silently pondering: "Where are we?"

"It is approximately 8,000 kilometers flying a straight line between Sydney and Honolulu," the Jamaican man with midnight skin and long dreadlocks answered. "Our flying time should have been nine hours and thirty minutes." He picked up a broken twig from the sand by his feet and began to draw out a rough map as our group leaned in to watch him.

Between the larger oval representing Australia and the smaller jagged line, which demarcated the Hawaiian Islands, he drew a somewhat curved line two-thirds of the way between them.

"That would have us traveling at roughly 850 kilometers and hour. Two hours to Honolulu, we hit turbulence and dropped airspeed. Then we banked west." From the line, he illustrated our path westward for a few inches. "Let's estimate we were traveling somewhere around 830 kilometers for another hour." And then he drew an X in the middle of an empty canvas of sand. "That would put us somewhere between the Polynesian Islands and Micronesia."

"Well that's helpful," Ponytail scoffed.

"There are hundreds of inhabited islands between Australia and Hawaii, right?" A thirty-something blonde woman with her hair piled on top of her head looked to the Jamaican hopefully. She sat next to another who looked to be her sister, as they shared similar coloring and features, and a rugged man with tussled brown hair Actually, the women looked remarkably like Kate.

"Thousands," he nodded. "But there are more than 20,000 islands and atolls in all. Maybe as many as 30,000."

"What are you saying?" I didn't like the negative direction of this conversation. So far we'd determined nothing other than we were in the middle of absolutely no idea.

"Maybe there are people here," the same blonde answered. "I mean, this could be a big island. There could be a village or something."

"Someone would have come by now," the man with the wavy blonde hair answered. "The crash would have drawn any nearby attention."

"No one is coming for us." The agitated remark came from the woman I recognized as the flight attendant whose scowl commanded me to shut off my phone before departure. She'd shed her uniform at some point during the day, now dressed in generic T-shirt and jeans.

"Gee, thanks for the uplifting reassurance," Big Guy snorted sarcastically. "Want me to find a puppy for you to kick?"

"Why?" I cut in and leveled my gaze at the flight attendant. "What don't we know?"

"Don't listen to her," Jake nudged me and shot a disapproving look at the flight attendant. I wasn't sure if anyone else recognized her with her hair pulled back and her makeup scrubbed off. "Why don't you keep the doom and gloom to yourself, Barbie."

"Happy to," she replied snidely. The flight attendant leapt to her bare feet and stormed off into the shadows alone.

"You didn't have to do that," I chided Jake. "She's been through just as much as the rest of us. We all deserve a little slack."

"Negative thinking isn't going to help anyone. If she wants to lay down a die, she can keep it to herself."

"I'll go after her," Big Guy proclaimed tiredly. He rose to his feat and pulled a piece of branch from the fire that was sticking out, using it as a torch. "It isn't safe to go wandering around in the dark alone." He proceeded in the direction the flight attended had taken, leaving us.

"I'm going to check on the doctor," I told Jake and stood, dusting the sand off my jeans. Tomorrow, I'd hunt for my backpack and try to find a change of clothes. Comforts just didn't seem important while the sun was still up.

"I'll go with you."

"No. I'm not going far, okay? Just…stay here." I pulled another branch from the fire to light my path toward the tree line where I'd last seen the doctor. I was concerned about him and his injury, but mostly wanted a little time to forgive Jacob for being a jerk.

We were all exhausted and dealing with our uncertain circumstances in different ways; I understood that. However, with my stress level at maximum, I felt it was likely I'd snap at him if he made another crack. Jacob was my one friend on the island. I couldn't afford to alienate him on the first day.

With my eyes constantly scanning the deepening darkness as I moved farther from the fire, I paid special attention to the rise and swell of the terrain. Earlier, I'd taken a moment to rinse myself off in the surf and give my body the onceover. Other than a few wicked bruises and superficial cuts, I was in good shape. However I'd managed to be so fortunate, I understood the importance of keeping myself healthy and avoiding the type of carless injury that came from my usual clumsiness.

Soon, I spotted a small fire and the doctor hovering over a person's prone form in the grass at the tree line. I paused, watching him as he knelt beside the body of our seventeenth survivor. Now, as his shoulders shook with silent sobs, I realized she had become another unfortunate victim.

He reached out with one hand, gently stroking his fingers over the brunette's forehead and through the tussled hair at her temple. He repeated this motion several times, running his fingers through her tresses and smoothing them as he went. I knew I should walk away and give this grieving man his private moment, but something inside me just refused to abandon him to the dark and lonely nook among the trees.

Under no ordinary circumstances would I have proceeded toward the doctor and the dead woman's corpse. Whatever irrational notion overcame me in that moment, it certainly never occurred before or would ever compel me again. Nevertheless, I found myself stepping closer to the doctor until I knelt down beside him and stuck my torch in his small fire. He didn't say a word and didn't tilt his head to acknowledge me, but I suppose it was my move to make. So I did, uncharacteristically.

"She's beautiful," I offered softly. "Is this your wife?"

"Esme," he replied adoringly. His gaze remained locked on her face, which looked peaceful in the flickering glow of the fire, still running his fingers over her lifeless skin. "She's my whole world."

For several minutes, I had no idea of what to say or if I should speak at all. I simply sat next to the blonde man longing over his departed wife, wishing only to ease any tiny part of his suffering by enduring it with him.

I wasn't good with death. I didn't know how to react to it up close, when the loss was so personal. When my grandmother died—my mother's mom—I was only five. My grandfather passed a year later. I remember the funerals and my mom telling me it was okay not to go up and look in the casket. The whole idea was creepy to me, honestly. For my age, as young as I was and still struggling to really grasp the concept of death, I didn't have much emotion over their deaths at all. They lived in South Dakota, so I never saw them when I was little. In all, I guess I just didn't feel any sort of connection to them other than the knowledge that we were related.

This woman, Esme, was a total stranger. I knew nothing about the kind of person she was or what had constituted her brief life. However, her profound impact on the world of this one man—a man so gentle and kind that probably saved many lives today—was evidence enough that she was loved and worthy of proper recognition.

"We couldn't have children," the doctor suddenly announced in a quiet voice, "but she so wanted to be a mother. Esme had tremendous love to offer the world. In fifteen years, I never heard her say an unkind word about another soul. She believed in the absolute goodness of people and brought that out of everyone that knew her. I was never so proud as the day she became my wife."

"How did you meet?" I scanned his profile, seeing the tired bags under his reddened eyes and dirt smeared across his cheek. Again it struck me that he looked too young for the way he carried himself. As my eyes moved lower, I saw that the makeshift bandage around his abdomen was stained through with the blood from the gash I'd noticed earlier.

A slow smile spread across his lips as he silently reminisced. I took that as a sign that I'd correctly chosen my words to urge him to call upon fond memories.

"She fell right into my lap," he quipped with a faint gleam in his crystal blue irises. "I didn't even know she was up there."

I waited, expecting he'd elaborate when he was suitably ready to share the memory playing out behind his eyes. For the first time, he looked to me as he shifted on the ground to face me and hold one of her hands in his.

"I was a sophomore at Harvard," he began. "It was the week before spring break and I was studying for midterms under a tree in the courtyard between Widener Library and Houghton. I'd been there, huddled under the shade of a Beech tree, for two hours. When I heard the leaves rustling above me, I expected it to be squirrels or birds. Instead, a lovely girl with caramel hair and porcelain skin tumbled from a branch above me and landed on top of my Human Developmental and Regenerative Biology text."

My eyes fell to his still wife and I allowed a smile to form on my lips as I imagined this woman as a startled college girl wearing a cardigan and clutching a copy of something like Wuthering Heights or Pride and Prejudice.

"She gets this adorable little crease on one side of her nose when she's embarrassed," he recalled fondly, returning his gaze to Esme. "Selfishly, I've endeavored to see that look as often as possible since that day."

"I wish I had a story like that," I replied honestly. My college career was academically successful, but romantically uneventful. My longest relationship lasted only three weeks; right up to the moment I caught the guy in bed with my lab partner. Whatever, we'd only dated for that long because I didn't have a great excuse not to answer his calls and accept his invitations. Of course, I hadn't liked him so much as to go very far physically. Hence his impromptu sex education class with Courtney.

"Realistically, it was a dreadful day. Esme broke her ankle and it started to pour down rain, but she let me carry her to the medical center. From the first moment I held her drenched and shivering body in my arms, I knew I'd never be able to let her go."

"Thank you," I said as I leaned in to meet his eyes sincerely. It wasn't the answer he was expecting, as evidenced by the furrow in his brow. "I'm sorry for your loss," was the natural response, but not the one I thought he needed to hear. "For everything you did to help us today. Some of us might not have made it this far without you. I just want you to know that we're grateful."

He studied me for a long moment and then nodded in acceptance. "We can't bury them. Even in the deeper parts of the jungle with there ground is more likely to keep away animals. Without something to properly dig with, it will take too long and we'll expend valuable water and energy."

I hadn't thought of that. It was my naïve assumption that tomorrow would be spent laying the dead to rest in a line of nameless graves. "Then what do we do?"

He looked back to the fire with sorrow and resignation on his tired features. Understanding crept through my mind, and with it the memory of the prevalent smell of burnt flesh that marked the earlier hours of the day. The task that we must carry out felt brutal and insufficient for the memory of someone like Esme. There wouldn't be an elaborate ceremonial pyre like the ancient tribes who offered the souls of their dead up to whatever gods or spirits resided in the heaves. No, this would be disposal—dirty and meaningless.

"My name is Bella." I'd help this man cremate his wife; he should at least know my name.

"Carlisle," he replied.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

**A/N: **Where's Edward, you ask? Well, if I told you it would take all of the fun out of it. Fear not, he'll show up soon. Maybe in the next chapter…sort of. There, that was (sort of) a hint.

Have you worked out who the other survivors are? Yes, you'll get actual names and introductions in the next chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Day 1**

**16 Survivors**

I sat silently by Carlisle's side until he maneuvered Esme's body into his arms and carried her for likely the last time. I followed, lighting the way with my torch, as he proceeded down the beach toward the wreckage of the plane. There he gingerly laid her in the sand under the shelter of a section of the wing and draped a large towel over her body.

Carlisle stood over her for several more minutes while I gave him space and some semblance of privacy. I'd nearly resolved to leave the torch for him and return to the group when he turned toward me, indicating he was ready. The force of will it must have taken the man to leave his wife there was more than I could conceive of. And yet, by the time we reached the group around the massive signal fire, he'd slid on a mask of determination that hardly let on to the sorrow and grief underneath.

The flight attendant was back, now sitting with the other blonde women and the rugged brunette man who seemed to be among their traveling party. Oddly, she was now scowling at Big Guy. He had been successful in convincing her back to the fire after Jake's comment, but had somehow managed to piss her off in the process.

"Hey, you okay? I was about to go looking for you." Jake came up to us where we remained standing. Though we hadn't discussed it outright, I understood an announcement needed to be made.

"Yeah," I assured him. "I'm good. Carlisle has a few things he'd like to say."

Jake met the doctor's eyes and nodded, moving out of the way to give the man we'd all come to depend on the floor to speak. Carlisle scanned our group, gaining their attention immediately.

"Some of us have lost family and friends here today," he began. The two women who I suspected were related to Kate began to tear and choke back air at his pronouncement. "And the worst insult of all is that we aren't given the proper time and place to grieve them, surrounded by our loved ones at home."

Jake's arm wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me against his side and clutching me tightly. I allowed the gesture; thankful I had someone to lean on while I fought back the image of my father's face when he heard I wasn't arriving in Seattle, or my mother's tears when he called her.

"I need to ask for volunteers," he stated confidently. "We don't know how long we will be here or what animal population may be nearby. For those reasons, tomorrow we must prepare a fire in the remaining section of the cabin and burn the bodies."

"That's sick!" One of the two blondes related to Kate stood with fury and disgust flashing behind her eyes. "That's my sister," she cried. "I'm not letting anyone disgrace her that way."

"I understand," Carlisle replied calmly, "but it is necessary. Even if we could dig enough graves, we could never dig them deep enough before the heat and moisture began to accelerate decay. Further, animals may scavenge their bodies while we prepare to bury them. It would take days," he urged her to understand. "This is the most dignified course of action we can offer them."

"I'll do it," the rugged man next to Kate's sister announced. She looked at him in shock for a fraction of a second before she slapped him across the face. He took it, staring back at her with resolve firm on his features. "She was my wife, Tanya. I'd expect her to do the same for me. It's better this way."

"You're disgusting," she shouted back. "You're a sick bastard!" She pounded her ineffectual fists against his chest until the other woman grabbed her arms and pulled her away from the group to try and calm her down.

"Yeah," Jake answered next. "I'll help."

"Me too," Big Guy offered. In all, the full complement of the eight men stepped up to the plate for the unenviable task of gathering, carrying, and placing the bodies into the cabin.

"Tomorrow we will need to break into groups to address our most pressing needs," Carlisle stated once the agreement had been reached. "We'll strip the cabin of anything useful and then use the hull as a furnace for cremation. Others can gather and search through the luggage while separating items like medications, toiletries, clean clothing, food, and so on. Another group should work on creating a system for collecting rainwater. Before noon, we must start gathering as much firewood as we can. Just before dusk, we'll light the fire."

"Why are waiting until then?" The redhead looked to Carlisle, but it was the man with the wavy blonde hair next to Big Guy that answered her.

"It will make a better distress signal at night."

Carlisle nodded in confirmation. "For tonight, it is advisable that we all stay close to the fire. Rest, if you can, and we'll start at dawn."

"Thanks, Doc." Jake held out his hand to Carlisle, offering a somber but friendly smile to our leader-apparent. He shook it, nodding in answer.

"You'll take special care of this one," Carlisle told Jacob in a tone of calm demand. His eyes briefly flickered to mind before leveling on my friend again. "She's a remarkable young woman."

"Her dad'll gun me down if I come home without her," Jake chuckled as he squeezed me closer. He was right about that and we both knew it.

xXx

Our band of strangers and castaways dispersed for the night, gaining some space and privacy as we all still remained in the general vicinity of the fire. Though I was exhausted, my brain wasn't ready to give me a reprieve from replaying the horrific events of the day. Hugging Angela goodbye in Sydney felt like another life I'd lived eons ago. Still, I was immensely grateful that she's escaped my fate. She was on her way home, safe, and into the arms of her family.

Jacob and I sat huddled together near the fire, still feeding off of its warmth since we hadn't managed to gather any actual food during the day. All of us had taken small rations of water earlier in the afternoon, but food would definitely be a priority for morning.

"It's weird," Jake suddenly announced quietly. "This feels so familiar, I keep forgetting I'm not on the reservation. I zone out for a few seconds and then I remember where I am."

"Familiar? How so?"

"Me and my friends have bonfires on the beach or on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. Sam, he's the oldest and the guy I work for, took me to one for the first time when I was in tenth grade. I felt like such a badass because I was the youngest one there, you know? Like I was the coolest kid I knew."

Jacob grinned boyishly; that charming smile I'd met on the plane had returned to his face. "I had my first illegal beer at one of those bonfires," he chuckled, "but don't tell Billy that," he added as he nudged my shoulder. "I also hurled my guts out that same night. Three years of sober living later and I finally had my first legal drink around a bonfire. I had my first kiss, my first breakup, and got laid at one those bonfire parties."

"Wow," I muffled a laugh with my hand over my mouth. Blush rose up my neck to my cheeks. "More than I needed to know."

"Yeah," he laughed coyly, "you're right. Don't tell Billy," he repeated with a wider smile that was anything but apologetic. "But at night on the beach by the fire; those are great memories. So sitting here, I can almost imagine I'm home."

"I wish I'd known you back then. Though the reason Charlie might have kept us apart is becoming clearer." I lifted my eyebrow, pointing out the face that my dad most certainly would not have approved.

"I'm not buying it," he shook his head and took on a cocky smirk. "I don't think the chief's daughter is as innocent as she pretends to be."

"Believe it," I answered. "There has been very little lust and intrigue in my life thus far. I had one beer on my twenty-first birthday, never woken up in a stranger's bed, and still not a single speeding ticket."

"Damn, that's boring." Jake almost looked sorry for me. "You really did miss out, not having me around in high school. I could have at least gotten you on one of my dirt bikes or taken you cliff diving. You need some kind of excitement in your life."

"I think I've had all the excitement I can stand, thanks. I might not have survived if I met you any sooner."

Unintentionally, I had pretty much killed the brief moment of levity that served as an escape from our reality. A somber quiet fell between us as Jake stared at me and I looked into the curling flames as they disappeared into the night.

"We are going to be rescued," he stated with conviction. His voice was lower and more aged than any time I'd heard him speak today. "I promise, Bella. I'll get you home."

"Jake," I sighed and faced him, "you aren't responsible for me. Don't say things you can't—"

"I made a promise," he cut me off adamantly. "I'm going to keep it. End of story."

Letting my eyes roam over his earnest expression, I gave up the will to argue with him. If it made Jacob feel better to believe he had the power to make that sort of pact, I'd let him. It wasn't my intention to hold him to the pledge, but what good would it do to try and convince him otherwise? I would just be arguing against our best interest if I proclaimed my pessimism, right?

I was pessimistic about our chances of rescue. The flight attendant's remark was still sitting heavy with me, stirring up all manner of negative thinking. She knew something pertinent to our circumstances, and until I knew what that was, I just couldn't shake my bleak outlook for our chances.

"I know this sounds terrible, but given the alternative, I'm glad you're here, Jake."

He smiled pulled me into a hug. I let my cheek rest against his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his neck. Jacob was warm, solid, and his masculine body enveloping mine was becoming a more comforting and familiar sensation.

Throughout the day, Jake had been protectively hovering and frequently keeping one arm over my shoulder or his hand laced with mine. Ordinarily, I wasn't so fond of letting people into my personal space. However, I never felt awkward with him. Maybe some latent memory of our childhood existed in my subconscious, telling my nerves that he was safe.

"You should get some sleep," Jake whispered as he pulled back and met my eyes. "Like the Doc said, we've got a lot to do tomorrow."

"Yeah." I didn't think I had a shot in hell of sleeping at all tonight, but I could lay my worries down in the sand for a few hours and close my eyes.

Jake shuffled around and pulled a couple of large beach towels out of one of the backpacks we'd used earlier to gather supplies for Carlisle. He stood, shaking them out, and then laid each down in the sand, side-by-side.

"All the comforts of home," Jake smiled as he tossed me one of the small airline pillows that he's managed to confiscate. He put his own pillow down, took off his shoes, and laid down on one of the towels.

Okay, now I felt awkward. As a result, I just sat there looking at him with his arms folded behind his head. He raised an eyebrow, watching me deliberate whether or not I wanted to snag the towel and put some space between us.

The others were spread out within thirty feet of the fire, so it wasn't as if anyone was putting on much pretense of separate sleeping quarters, but sleeping inches from a guy I had—for all intents and purposes—just met today…yeah, that made me nervous.

"I'm not going to try anything, okay? I'd just feel better if you stuck close to me. If anything happened during the night—"

"Like what?" I clutched the pillow to my chest, eyeing him speculatively.

"I don't know," Jake sat up on his elbows, looking at bit frustrated with me. "Cannibals." I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous answer. "Lions and tigers and bears, for all I know. Point is, you can't get dragged off in the middle of the night without me knowing about it."

"So, you're going to protect me against lions, tigers, and bears." I moved closer, sitting at the bottom of the towel to start taking off my shoes. Glancing over my shoulder, I leveled my mockingly serious expression with Jake's impatient eyes.

"Wrestle them with my bare hands." He answered me with a straight face, though just the slightest crease started to form on one side of his full lips.

Setting my shoes and socks near the fire to dry out, I scooted back on the towel until I was lined up next to Jacob. Supporting myself on my flat palms, I narrowed my eyes, my bottom lip finding its way between my teeth while I tried to keep up my bravery. As long as I could make a joke of it, I didn't have to feel quite as silly about desensitizing myself to the idea of sleeping next to another man.

Was it strange that I'd never shared a "bed" with anyone? Granted, this wasn't exactly the same thing. After all, we were both fully clothed and in plain view of fourteen others, but the proximity was suggestive.

"I'll put the backpack between us if that makes you feel better," Jake offered with a sly smirk. He was enjoying my discomfort, finding all kinds of humor in my unease.

"No," I shook my head and lay back on the pillow, tilting my face to meet Jake's soft expression of amusement. "I'm going to operate under the assumption that you value your life. You promised to get me home, so that means whatever you do here better sit well when I relay our exploits to my gun-wielding father."

"Fair enough," he nodded. Jake settled in, returning his arms to their folded position behind his head. I wondered if he thought I expected him to sleep that way all night just to ensure his hands weren't roaming.

For a few minutes, I stared up at the impressive cascade of stars that sparkled in the clear night sky. Jake was right; this beach could be mistaken for the isolated areas of Washington—minus the palm trees. The uninterrupted light of stars, free from city glare and smog, reminded me of sitting on the back porch in Forks to look for falling comets when I couldn't sleep.

Inexplicably, I'd always been plagued by random bouts of insomnia and indistinct nightmares. The first time I woke up screaming from a dream—one I had no recollection of after the fact—after moving into the dorms with Angela, she was rightfully concerned about me. I assured her it was just some phase of childhood that I'd never grown out of, like some subconscious fear of the dark or the Boogeyman that I just couldn't shake. But I hadn't had one in two years.

"I don't snore," Jake said.

"Neither do I."

"I know," he reminded me. "See, you've already slept practically on top of me."

"Funny," I replied sarcastically. "Just stay on your own towel."

"I will if you do."

"Jake," I groaned. He was starting to push his luck.

"Kidding." He chuckled under his breath, which made me smile involuntarily as I kept my eyes trained to the sky.

Then a new thought occurred to me, one I had better get out in the open before it was too late. "Umm…sometimes I talk in my sleep," I admitted. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jake shift to face me fully. "Not often, and usually it is just nonsense and whatever, but it happens. So if you don't want me chatting your ear off all night, this is your last chance to scout a better spot."

"If you get too loud I'll stick some tape over your mouth."

I titled my face toward his, still a foot between us, and scowled at his empty threat. "You'd have to find some first, buddy."

"Well, maybe I can fall asleep before you start yapping if you'll quit pestering me." He rolled onto his back with a bright smile on his lips. I didn't bother with a retort.

* * *

**End Notes: **Now I am going to remind you all that this story is categorized as Drama/Supernatural. No vampires or werewolves, but some other weirdness is afoot in the next chapter.

I'm still plugging away at _London Calling_, so be patient with me on that one. It's coming along.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

**A/N:** Remember that hint I gave you in the last chapter? Here comes the weirdness.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**Day 2**

**16 Survivors**

_Blackness. The void that surrounded me was vacant of light or sound, lacking also in any real or tangible sensation of temperature. It wasn't like standing in an empty room, but rather existing in a realm outside the physical world where only my consciousness was present. I didn't feel my body or my feet touching the ground—I had no contact with my solid self. _

_While the apparent solitude should have been frightening for its uncertainty, I felt strangely comfortable—insulated. As impossible as it was to define a blank place as similar to any other, familiarity was the prevailing sense I got from the void. _

_Slowly, though, something wholly unfamiliar and foreign crept inside my isolated privacy. Not a "thing" or a "someone," at first, but a general sense of infiltration. Or rather, it was trying to penetrate my insulated place. The first physical, tactile feeling I encountered was that of pressure. The void seemed to contract under the stress of the attempt at intrusion, and then would snap back into its vast and spherical form around me as it repelled the force working against its barrier. _

_The attacks came from all sides, pressing in against the flexible sphere like fingers poking at the forgiving skin of an inflated balloon. Rather than the void protecting itself, I felt the increasing violence of the confrontations concentrate within me. With greater effort and even pain, I was compelled to concentrate on maintaining the solidity of my fortress. The pain manifested itself as a tightening sensation, a squeezing constriction in my mind. _

_All at once, the assault ceased. My void flashed out, expanding rapidly in relief to its full and proper volume. For the first time, I felt a singular and distinct presence in my vicinity. It made itself known just beyond my barrier, asking for entry. The foreign presence didn't feel hostile, but the intensity of its apparent energy was staggering, like an immense hypergiant star idling patiently next to an insignificant moon. _

_Both curiosity and wariness warred inside me; tempted to discover the source but still cautious of the intrusion. Instead, I returned to a state of patient calm. The unknown presence lingered, and I noticed its apparent closing proximity—the energy it emitted becoming more insistent. _

_Though I didn't hear it in the strictest terms, a clear plea translated into my consciousness from outside the void. "Let me in," it asked. _

_"Who are you?" _

_"Let me in," it reiterated, ignoring my question._

_"Tell me who you are."_

_"Let me in." The unspoken order, still lacking in any actual sound, was harsher and more demanding. Frustration was evident in the energy of the foreign presence. _

_Reflexively, I felt the flexible barrier of my void expand further, pushing out against the overwhelming energy that eclipsed it. On all sides, I felt trapped, encompassed and surrounded by something too vast to escape and too strong to overcome. _

_Renewed panic rose within me, demanding that I fight to maintain my protective solitude within my private and impenetrable space. While I'd had the impression of autonomy, it became clearer that I was already imprisoned, but hadn't been fully aware of it. _

_"Stop struggling," it silently spoke to me. This time, the tone was gentler and oddly enticing. "It is only painful if you fight me."_

_Without permission, my void began to constrict from its exacerbated inflation. The deliberate assault was not malicious, but stripped my sentient hold on free will like peeling away fine strands from a length of thread. The outer barrier softened as it deflated, becoming porous to the oppressing presence insisting against it. _

_In tiny streams, the outside energy infiltrated my void like pinholes of light through a blanket of thick velvet. What assailed me next was nothing like the pressure forcing itself on the balloon, but rather an onslaught of pure physical feeling. _

_Light._

_Sound._

_Emotion._

_In flickering and incomplete images, I saw so many broken scenes that were impossible to assemble into a coherent picture. Voices and other noises accompanied each in a cacophony of chaos, all associated with a multitude of complex emotional responses. No, it wasn't painful, but it was disorientating and wholly confusing to be so barraged without a second of reprieve. _

_"Stop," I silently called without a tangible voice of my own. "It's too much." The flood was relentless for an indeterminate span of time as the pinholes widened to gaping entries. _

_"Relax," a smooth and darkly seductive voice called to me. I heard this one, truly heard the sonic qualities. Male. "Don't resist."_

_I tried to comply, if only to ease the salvo that seemed to be filling the volume of my shrinking space. Slowly, the scenes took on shape and definition, fitting together in order and playing out in series, but still moving too quickly for me to interpret. I strained to keep up, but doing so only caused that squeezing pain to return. The reflex to repair the barrier of my void and force out the intrusion was growing, urging me to expel the foreign energy and fortify myself in isolation. _

_"Come to me," he ordered. _

_I didn't answer or acknowledge the demand, but gave in to the instinct to close up the holes he'd inexplicably coaxed me to open. For every inch that was sealed shut against him, a small bit of relief washed over me, like discarding bricks held on a pallet above my head. _

_"You're in danger," he accused roughly. "You must come with me."_

_The irrational pull his commands held over me was significant and alarming. Every intangible inch of my consciousness was compelled to obey, but I fought against the rope that seemed to coil around my mind and tug me in a distinct direction. With greater urgency, I willed my void to repair itself and banish the penetrating energy, taking the voice with it. _

_The last evidence of the intruder—now undeniably a person—was a clear vision of two green eyes staring back at me. The sight was startling in its sudden appearance and ferocity. Those eyes, piercing and intelligent, burned through me with such searing intensity that the void immediately snapped shut to blink them out of existence. _

Gasping hurriedly, my eyes snapped open to still more darkness, but with the dwindling light of the fire evident on the outer edges of my vision. I swallowed hard, realizing my dehydration through a scratchy throat and dry mouth. Where I expected to be covered in sand for having been thrashing around through my dream—as was my typical response—I instead found myself curled under Jacob's muscular arm, using his shoulder as a pillow with my hand resting on his chest.

He, on the other hand, was sprawled on his back, on his own towel, with is other arm stretched out in the sand away from me. Once again, I noted embarrassingly, I had invaded his space. This time I'd done so after stupidly worrying that he might take liberties while I slept.

Okay, no. I didn't actually think Jacob would try to feel me up, but maybe just get a little too snuggly for the fact that we weren't the snuggling kind of friends. Well, we weren't supposed to be, but that had yet to stop me from helping myself to his warmth and comfort—on the plane and now.

I guess I could add molestation to my list of sleep habits. Clearly it was better that I always slumbered solo.

I lifted my chin from his shoulder and attempted to roll back onto my own towel. The instant I moved, Jake's arm under my neck came up to grip me and hold me fast to his side—stopping my retreat. I froze, staring at his face to see if I'd woken him, but his breathing remained slow and steady, his face a vacant expression of restfulness with his lips slightly parted. I made another futile attempt to extricate myself from his side, but the arm refused to budge. If I wanted to give him his personal space back, I'd have to wake him to do it.

What would be worse, rousing him in the middle of the night to explain that I'd cuddled up next to him or waiting until morning to find out how we'd wake up?

Just as I was prepared to bite the bullet and shake him, a loud snap followed by a thundering commotion reached me from somewhere deep in the jungle and quite far off. My heart responded with an unsustainably frantic rhythm, alerting my nerves and spiking a rush of tension through my body. I stared at the black wall where the tree line disappeared into darkness for several seconds, then scanned the immediate area to see that the others sleeping in my line of sight hadn't noticed.

After a moment, I rationalized the noise was likely just a tree falling. Yes, it made a sound and I heard it. With that, I decided to just shut my eyes and await the return of sleep. Whatever the strange dream, which I uncharacteristically remembered in perfect detail, it made me all the more edgy and even a bit frightened. For the sake of Jacob's protective proximity, I'd just suck it up and take the embarrassment in the morning when he cracked jokes and had a good laugh at my expense.

xXx

The humiliation of my morning was not of the sort I had anticipated. First, I woke up alone. Jacob had risen and returned his towel and pillow to the backpack before I was roused by smoke wafting toward my nostrils from someone placing fresh branches in the fire. I scanned the immediate area once I had stretched, felt the soreness of my bruises and the stiffness that resulted from sleeping on the bumpy divots of sand, but he was nowhere to be found.

After I shook out my own towel and folded it up to return to the backpack he'd left behind, I was surprised to find three pieces of fresh clothing waiting for me, laid right on top of the pile inside. A white T-shirt and pair of jeans smelled of detergent and were crisp against my fingers, both in my size. I was grateful, obviously, as I greedily inhaled the fresh scent of clean cotton, but also unsure of how to react to the fact that Jacob had woken up early to go hunting for clothing on my behalf.

And, lest I overlook the fact, he had sized me up to a T. How a guy like Jake so easily pinned me as a size four was both curious and disconcerting. I wasn't particularly fond of the idea that he'd appraised me so closely and accurately.

When I unfolded the jeans, a dainty bit of fabric stared back, spurring me to full-on mortification. Panties. Jake had procured a clean pair of underwear for me. I was so horrified that I spastically shoved the clothes back into the bag like they were my stepfather's porn collection.

Yes, I'd inadvertently discovered Phil's naughty stash in the back of their closet when I went hunting for an old quilt my grandmother had made that my mom insisted I take with me when I first moved back to Forks. Similarly, I choked on my own saliva and frantically reassembled the stack of paraphernalia in the nondescript cardboard box. For the three days before my flight to Washington, I couldn't look Phil in the eye and was certain they both somehow knew what I'd seen.

This was so much worse.

Again I searched the area around me and found the others milling about; some were washing in the surf, the two blonde sisters were hanging wet clothing on low tree branches, and the little pixie was drawing something in the sand several feet away. The day was well underway, and I needed to get up and start making myself useful. But first, I had to come to terms with my clothing situation.

Could I wear this stuff?

The T-shirt and jeans wasn't really a question. I felt disgusting for still sporting the same clothes I'd traveled in, crashed in, sweat and bled in. It was well just past dawn on our beach; the sun's rays were casting warmth down from behind the top of the tree line behind me. At least I knew which way we were pointed by the position of the sun's rise and fall; that simple assurance was comforting for its certainty.

Okay, I was stalling.

Rationally, I understood that I needed to bathe and dress in something clean. In our current predicament, a rash or skin infection from poor hygiene could quickly become life threatening. Little cuts and scrapes that you wouldn't think twice about in modern civilization were serious hazards without Neosporin and while exposed to the elements.

Jake and I had salvaged one of the toiletry bags for ourselves from the lot we found yesterday. I wasn't desperate enough to use the toothbrush of foreign and questionable origin—not yet—but there was mouthwash, hotel soaps, and so on. I determined that it was fair to ration a little off the top for ourselves while we delivered the vast majority to Carlisle. Today, after we'd sifted through the rest of the luggage strewn about the beach, everyone could be doled out his or her allotment.

Still stalling.

The most significant impediment to just accepting Jacob's thoughtful gift was the fact that once he saw me wearing the white T-shirt and jeans he'd provided, he would also know that I was wearing the underwear. He would know exactly what I had on under my clothes. He'd touched them. That was weird, right? Should I read something into the fact that a 34C bra had not also been selected for me? Did he imagine I would just keep the one I was wearing or that I would go nips out under the fitted white shirt that would leave very little to the imagination?

Yeah, that train of thought was not at all helpful.

In all honesty, it was probably advisable that I discard my dirty bra for a day until I could wash it out and let it properly dry. Sensitive areas, like the crease under my breasts or the skin below my underarms would be prime territory for a rash from the seams and underwire that could likely collect dirt and bacteria. That was the same justification for not turning down a clean pair of panties. In all my life, I'd never thought so long on the topic of undergarments.

Screw it. Marooned on an island, I was in no position to indulge myself in pickiness or pride.

I put my dry shoes and socks back on and then collected the backpack. Down the beach several yards was an outcropping of trees and rocks that hid the bend of the shore. It was there I'd seek some privacy to shed my outer layers before sinking into the surf to fully disrobed and wash.

Once I felt suitably isolated and hidden from view of the others, I stripped to my bra and underwear and took one of the bars of hotel soap with me into the water. At thigh level in the waves, I lathered up generously. Never had I appreciated bathing so much. The water was reasonably warm in the shallow area, though the larger waves that crashed around my legs reminded me that the Pacific was cold in any season.

After peeking around to make sure I was still alone, I took off my bra and turned my back to the direction of the beach where the others resided. I spread soap over the newly exposed areas of my chest, rinsed, and walked further into the waves until I was covered to my shoulders. There, I slid out of my panties and did my best to wash both undergarments with the body soap and sand. Though there was shampoo in the backpack, I decided just to rinse out my hair and conserve.

For a couple of minutes, I let myself enjoy the rolling sensation of the salt water caressing my weary body. The brief privacy and solitude was relaxing, and each retreat of the tide seemed to take with it a small fraction of my permanent stress. That was until I felt an eerie and familiar energy reach out to me. Truly, the sensation was indescribable, except to say that I had the distinct impression that I was being watched.

My muscles tensed in anticipation of there being an audience to my private moment. Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath in preparation for what I might find, I tentatively peered over one shoulder and then the other. There was no one. For several yards in every direction, there was not another soul in sight. I turned fully to face the thick barrier of the jungle and scanned it meticulously. Still, I saw no one. And yet, the instinct that I was not alone only increased.

My breathing became faster and my skin, still submerged, prickled with strange electricity that managed to elicit goose bumps over my skin that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. I wasn't sure if I were the field mouse oblivious to the hawk circling overhead, or if I had already been backed into a corner of no retreat by a stalking predator. Trapped, caged, and watched; that's the feeling that gripped my heart and knotted my stomach.

"Bella?"

I jumped in place and then sheepishly dunked myself under the waves at the sound of my name. Stupidly, I realized I had no hope of hiding underwater unless I spontaneously grew gills. Instead, I poked my head out just enough to clear my path to oxygen with my mouth and nose breaking the surface.

"Hey, are you okay?" I found Jacob on the edge of the shore just around the grouping of rocks that provided my wall from the other side of the beach. He started to walk closer, which reminded me of my very naked state.

"Stop!" I shouted at him. He froze in place immediately. "Go away," I yelled back.

"Bella, what's wrong?" He took another step closer to the water, still several yards away.

"Jake, stop. Turn around." Though I was mostly under the cover of the water, I still had the impulse to wrap my arms around my chest. "Do it!"

Reluctantly, he complied with my shrieked demand. "What the hell is going on?" I barely heard him as he shouted over his shoulder without fully turning to look at me.

"I'm…" Damn. I didn't want to have to say it out loud. Wasn't it obvious? Telling him that I was naked out here only made the fact that he'd fondled my underwear—not really mine—even worse. For that matter, this entire episode managed to make surviving a plane crash unimaginably worse.

"Bella?"

"Jesus, Jake. I'm taking a bath, okay? Go away!"

He jerked part way around and then halted himself and snapped his head back toward the trees and away from me. "Sorry," he exclaimed. "I was just worried about you."

"I'm fine," I called impatiently. "Go!"

I waited at least a full three minutes after I saw him disappear around the bend of the beach until I was convinced he was really gone. With unladylike haste, I rushed out of the surf and back to the waiting backpack. Using the towel I'd slept on, I quickly dried off and then slid into the new clothes my accidental peeping tom had provided. Yes, including the panties and without a bra.

Survival, I reminded myself. I was stowing my pride for the sake of hygiene and my overall health, though it didn't make the entire ordeal any less humiliating.

Back at the populated area of the beach, I hung my wet clothing away from the others and tried my best to conceal my unmentionables from plain view. The group was already gathered around the fire, as I was apparently the straggler they were waiting on. Impishly, I joined the circle and stood next to the pixie, purposefully avoiding Jacob. I just couldn't look him in the eyes.

"Here," the pixie handed me flat leaf the size of a football. Inside its curled envelop were several crudely separated chucks of fresh fruit with green skin.

"Thank you." I took it gratefully, not the slightest bit concerned with what it was. A huge smile spread over my lips as I savored the first chunk of mango. Starving, I quickly scarfed down the remaining pieces. "I'm Bella, by the way."

"I know," she answered immediately, expectantly. Her sweetly soprano voice carried a note of anticipation in just the two syllables.

"Oh," I answered curiously. "What should I call you?"

"Alice." Again, her answer was a little clipped and impatient, but not rude. Like the way her eyes widened and her head tilted to the side as if to say, "obviously," her tone made me feel stupid for asking.

Had I missed the part where we'd already introduced ourselves? I was sure I hadn't gotten any names besides Carlisle and Esme.

"Where did you find the mango?"

"There is a group of fruit plants not too far in," Alice nodded toward the jungle. "I stashed everything I could carry in one trip over there." She indicated toward a broken log where I saw a pile of various fruits laid out on a blanket in the shade. It was more than I would have guessed she should carry on her tiny frame. To my five-foot-four, she was easily three inches shorter and probably ten pounds lighter. "That will last us until lunch tomorrow. Jasper is going to recommend a party set out to find more food and a freshwater source later today. You'll find plenty more then."

At least someone was optimistic. "Which one is Jasper?"

Openly, Alice pointed across the circle to the blonde guy with a wavy mop of hair that had been sitting next to Big Guy last night. "You can trust him," she whispered. I glanced back at her questioningly, but wasn't given the opportunity to investigate her assertion further.

"As you all know, there is much we must accomplish today," Carlisle stated as he gained the attention of the group. "I ask that two others assist me in stripping the plane."

"Not a good idea, Doc." Big Guy cut off Carlisle and shook his head as he stepped forward. "Your hands are more valuable than mine. There is all kind of shit in there that could bust you up."

He had a point. If we were destined to spend any length of time on this island, we would all depend on Carlisle being in a condition to tend to our injuries, not hindered by his own.

"Emmett—"

"He's right," I interjected. Carlisle looked on me for a long moment and I read the need on his face. Esme was over there, and he wanted to stay close to her in all things that involved the cabin where he would finally lay her down for the last time. "Please," I asked him. Nodding, he relented and took a step back.

Continuing to plan out our priorities and break into smaller groups as we introduced ourselves, everyone was given a task for the morning. Jake and Garrett, Kate's Husband, agreed to help Emmett. Jasper offered to lead James, the Aussie, and Victoria, the redhead, in devising a system for collecting rainwater. At that point in the discussion, Alice confidently announced that it would rain late tomorrow afternoon. The looks shot in her direction ranged from mockery to patent disbelief. If possible, she seemed to alienate herself further every time she opened her mouth.

"We need to address shelter," Laurent, the Jamaican, proclaimed. "I believe the inflatable slides from the emergency exists of the cabin section should still be in tact. There would be enough material for tarps and water collection."

"If we can find something to cut it with," Peter replied doubtfully. Next to him, his new bride Charlotte looked to be the most traumatized of our group. She had this permanent look of fear and hopelessness etched on her delicate profile.

"Gotcha covered," Emmett announced. He took a step back, revealing a metal luggage case behind him. With the toe of his shoe, he lifted the lid to reveal an intimidating collection of glinting steel.

"What the fuck is all that?" James' dark eyes darted between the small arsenal of serious knives and Emmett's proud expression.

"My wares," he replied somewhat smugly. "And this is going to make our lives much easier."

"How'd you get that on the plane?" Jacob was alert again, narrowing his eyes at Emmett, who smiled in return.

"I checked it," he shrugged. "There's no law against that."

"What kind of psycho travels with a butcher's stash of knives and hatchets?" The flight attendant, Rosalie, leveled a glare at Emmett that could cut down Mount Everest. "Was the Serial Killer Special on sale at Walmart?"

"Chill, Rosie." Emmett smirked, his dimples creasing as Rosalie looked an inch from testing the sharpness of one of those blades on his man parts. "I own an online sports and hunting goods business. I was in Sydney to attend a trade show. I've got all kinds of useful shit on that plane somewhere. You'll be kissing my ass once we find the rest of it."

"If we find it," Jasper reminded him. "And that's a big if."

"Come on, guys. I just saved us a hell of a headache here. I woke up at dawn to find and dig this shit out of the sand. Can't I get a thank you?"

"Thank you," Jacob replied. "Just don't stab me in my sleep."

It was a morbid joke to make to a complete stranger, but Emmett laughed and slapped him on the back like they were old buddies. Honestly, out of everyone in the group, Emmett didn't strike me as the unstable type. If anything, he was probably taking this entire situation too lightly. Looking at him you'd think he was on some adventure trek that rich people paid through the nose for as a novelty—having a ball all the way.

With that settled, Laurent recruited Tanya, Irina, Peter and Charlotte to help figure out the shelter situation. The rest of us, which consisted of Alice, Rosalie and myself, would take on the task of collecting and sorting through the luggage. I momentarily felt guilty for not volunteering for a more labor-intensive job, but remembered Alice's assertion about Jasper wanting to go foraging for more food and fresh water later today. I'd take that opportunity to volunteer for the excursion.

There was one odd man out: Randall. He had a broken leg and look of dismantled lifelessness in his eyes. He didn't say a word, just sat off to the side and stared out at the ocean. No one even tried to speak to him or offer him something to do. I wondered if he'd already refused or Carlisle had insisted that he just rest as to not aggravate his injury. I had sympathy for him, but not a single idea of how I could improve his circumstances.

Guilty for participating in the conspiracy to ignore him, I followed the other women down the beach toward the greatest concentration of scattered luggage. Again, my own survival instinct outweighed my selflessness, and that thought turned my stomach worse than the vivid memories of corpses that had mysteriously been extricated from their resting places. While I slept, it would seem the crew of body collectors had started the day with cleanup duty. Passing the wreckage, I barely glanced at the long line of victims that represented only our small section of the plane.

Even if we made it home, I'd never be the same for what I'd witnessed in just one day.

* * *

**End notes:** So, Jake likes shopping for women's clothing, huh? Hmm…

I'd like to hear your theories about Bella's dream, so send them on over.


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

**A/N:** Okay, Edward is not a ghost or spirit or a tumor growing in Bella's brain. I promise he will show up as a real-life boy (well, not a _boy_) soon. Some of you are quite clever with your predictions and are pretty darn close to guessing where this is going. Of course, I won't spoil it by confirming your theories. You'll just have to wait and see.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Alice was staring at me. For whatever length of time had passed, Alice had her wide doe eyes on me as I moved from one piece of luggage to the next, sorting personal possessions of the dead for anything useful. She wasn't even surreptitious about it; every time I looked up to wipe the sweat from my eyes or glance around out of habit rather than interest, her eyes were unabashedly scanning me. She looked…contemplative, expectant.

Though the small woman couldn't be construed as physically intimidating, Alice had a quiet intelligence about her that made me nervous under her gaze. Rarely had anyone spent as long deliberating over me. Those that did were usually carrying an extra appendage in their pants that had an agenda of its own. The environment was a the campus cafeteria or courtyard, a dimly lit bar surrounded by three or four of their frat brothers whispering crude encouragement.

But it was Rosalie that I frequently sneaked sideways glances at. She was quiet as she went about rifling through baggage, a permanent scowl etched across her otherwise attractive features. Even disheveled and her hair windblown, she was classically beautiful. Of course, it was her comment around the fire last night—one that had been too quickly silenced and dismissed—that conjured up my insatiable curiosity.

I wanted to approach her, but I didn't know how. Without saying a word, she did intimidate me. Maybe that was because she'd taken to picking fights with the biggest guy on the island. I smiled privately, amused by the obvious. Emmett had developed an interest and was pursuing her with all the grace of a third-grader pulling her ponytail on the playground. Again, he was taking this better than the rest of us. Fear of death and abandonment on this island hadn't quelled his appreciation of a pretty girl.

"Your turn." I glanced up, squinting against the sun, to see Jacob holding a tall water bottle. "We've all had our share," he continued. "The rest is for you three."

I hesitated for a moment, reminded of my earlier embarrassment. His smile was still the same innocent gesture that I'd come to recognize, but I dropped my eyes from his and took the bottle, still unable to look at him without flushing red.

"Thank you," I nodded with my stare of the sand. I noted the level of the water line and drank just slightly less than a third of what was left. I could make it a while longer. Alice was smaller and looked the most frail under the sun. She could have my unused portion.

"A little more," he insisted gently when I pulled the bottle from my lips. "You're baking out here."

"I put on sunblock," I answered defensively. "There's more in the red bag up there," I said while pointing toward the tree line with the rest of the supplies we'd already sorted through and repacked into the luggage by category.

Jacob stepped aside side, putting himself between me and the sun and casting a refreshing shadow. "I was born with immunity," he smirked. "You pale faces need it more than I do."

I nodded and trained my eyes back onto the pile of clothes in front of me as I pushed the water back into his hand.

"Bella?"

I didn't look up, but unfolded and refolded the same button-down shirt I'd been fiddling with.

"I didn't see anything, if that's what's bothering you. I promise I didn't come looking for you so I could sneak a peek."

"I know." I didn't, but hearing him say the words sincerely was helpful. "Don't worry about it."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lied. It wasn't his fault that I was too cowardly to wear the underwear he'd found for me and look him in the eyes at the same time.

"You're upset about this morning," he surmised. Jacob's tone was patient, if also a little regretful. "You don't have to explain anything. I really didn't mind. I just wanted you to be comfortable. Or…as much as you can be out here."

I knew that. He was only trying to be considerate. I was just too…I don't know…lame.

"Bella." His patience was waning as he called my name. "Will you please look at me? Say something. I'm telling you that it really didn't bother me."

Reluctantly, I dragged my eyes up his long legs and bare chest. His dark skin actually freaking glistened under the mixture of sweat and sun. Not helping. Crashed and stranded, turns out I was more like Emmett than I realized. Jake was handsome and had a muscular body that couldn't go unnoticed.

Wait, what did he say?

My eyes reached his. Where I was now replaying the one-sided conversation in confusion, Jake looked pleased.

"What didn't bother you?"

His smile stretched further. "Waking up to you using me as a body pillow." My eyes widened in shock, having forgotten that I needed to be concerned for his reaction. "That's what I'm saying," he interjected with a hint of humor and impatience, "don't look at me like that. I'm not reading anything into it, okay? If it makes you feel safe or comfortable or whatever, I'm not going to make a big deal out of it. I'm just trying to take care of you."

"I'm sorry. I don't know why…" I had the choice to not continue sleeping that way when I woke up in the middle of the night. Truthfully, I did feel safer. Jacob was a big guy, and while he wouldn't stand a chance against those lions and tigers and bears, he made feel protected.

To hell with it. I could be an adult about this. While I wouldn't intentionally make a habit of snuggling up against Jake, I didn't have to act like such a nervous idiot around him. He wasn't the least bit upset by my actions, so I could work with this as long as he wasn't getting the wrong idea.

"Thank you," I answered with more confidence. "You're right, let's not make a big deal about it. I wasn't eaten by cannibals, so I guess you did your part."

"Good," he smiled easily. "So stop avoiding me, deal?"

"Deal."

Jacob left the water bottle by my side and returned to the cabin of the plane. I did my best throughout the morning not to look in that direction. Partly it was to avoid meeting Jake's eyes, but also because I didn't want to witness the morbid job they'd undertaken inside.

Since the duty of passing off the last of the water ration had been given to me, I stood and brushed the sand from my legs. Alice sat in the sand a few dozen feet away, for once not looking at me. Actually, she suddenly looked concerned, a little furrow in her neatly sculpted brow, as she sifted through a Samsonite.

"Alice?" I approached her cautiously. Her head snapped up, seemingly alarmed to find me standing over her. I knelt down slowly and held the bottle out as my greeting. "The rest is for you and Rosalie. Right about here," I pointed at one of the notched rings in the bottle to indicate where her share should end. It wasn't much, and I sort of felt guilty that I had to stop her from fully quenching her thirst. Then again, we were all in the same figurative boat.

Damn, my kingdom for a boat.

Alice took the bottle between her tiny hands and sipped slowly, pulling back for air and swishing the water around in her mouth before swallowing and licking her lips. She repeated this action several times until she'd reached the end of her ration.

"I'm sorry there isn't more," I offered as I took the bottle back.

"It is going to rain," she repeated with assurance I wasn't so quick to believe her. The sun was the only gaseous object in the sky. In every direction, the dome above us was a crisp blue without even a hint of a cloud. "Thank you for saving me more, but you shouldn't."

"Huh?" I fixed my eyes on her, giving up my staring contest with the sky.

"You didn't drink all of your portion. Thank you, but don't do that again. Not for anyone. You need it."

"I'm fine," I replied automatically. It was a poor response that none of us could really claim honestly. We all had our varying degrees of being not fine at all.

"It makes him angry," she asserted with her eyes looking past me toward the jungle.

"Jake might get a little annoyed with me, but I don't think angry is in his personality. Besides, he's done enough for me for one day."

"Here." Alice held up a long-sleeved shirt to my chest and then slid a pair of hiking boots over as well. "Size seven, right?"

"Umm…yeah?"

"You'll need to cover up and have better shoes when you go into the jungle with Jasper later. These should work." She piled the shirt and shoes together and put them back inside the small backpack beside her. "There's three or four days in here," she professed as she slid the bag to me. "And I finally found you another bra. Sorry about that."

Oh holy relief.

"You gave me the clothes this morning?" A grateful smile slid over lips as I looked on the strange girl with such affection I had to hold back from actually tackling to her to sand.

"Of course," she popped one shoulder offhandedly. "I couldn't sleep last night. Emmett and Jacob were the toughest to supply, but I did my best."

"I can't even tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that," I chuckled to myself, shaking me head at the nonsense I'd carried on with all morning. "I had a heart attack thinking Jake went digging for panties."

Alice giggled, her eyes light with amusement. The sound was infectiously gentle, softly tickling its way past her thin lips. "No, he was passed out cold all night. I think the men smelled me come back with food and they all woke up first."

"You really didn't sleep at all, did you?" Gathering clothes for everyone, finding the fruit—she must have been at it for hours, in the dark and all alone. I realized the tiny pixie was far more resilient and formidable than any of us had given her credit for.

"No," she shook her head and then cocked a strange expression at me when her eyes locked on mine with renewed speculation. There was the stare that had unnerved me most of the morning.

"What?" I couldn't spend another second wondering what she was thinking. Perhaps it was a bit rude, but she just needed to spit it out already. We were sort of friends now, right?

Her eyes flickered past me, glazing over a bit as she stared toward the jungle. For a moment, I thought I saw recognition in her eyes, as if spotting someone you know across a crowded room, but it was erased quickly when her gaze fell on me once more.

"I don't know yet," she stated pensively. I wasn't sure if it was an answer to my question at all. Her reply was less than helpful in any case. "He hasn't decided."

"Thanks for sharing," a bitter voice announced before Rosalie bent down to snatch the water bottle from the sand. In one fast gulp, she emptied the container and let it drop at her feet.

"I'm sorry," I was quick to answer. "I was going to bring it to you." I stopped just short of flinching when I made the mistake of looking at her. A barrage of bullets flying from her eyes would have been less jarring than the anger held in her deceptively inviting blue irises. Something in her derisive glare struck me the wrong way. It set me off like a switch, more than her curt accusation that perhaps we were conspiring to let her go thirsty.

"You know what," I hauled myself from the ground and took a step forward, displaying an intentionally confrontational pose, "how about you take the sand crabs out of your ass and fake a fucking smile? We're all just as shit out of luck as you, okay? Thirst might kill you, hunger, but pretending to be nice won't. I promise."

"Bitch!"

"Good one," I sneered, surprised at myself but to far into my roll to stop the snide reply.

Rosalie reared back to slap me, but we were suddenly torn apart and Alice tossed herself between us. I let Jacob yank me back, not for fear of Rose, but because I might be propelled to violence if she did managed to land a shot. Emmett wrapped his massive arms around her, hauling her off her feet as she struggled, and walking her away while she hurled a few parting words.

"The hell was that all about?" Jake released me. I glared at Rosalie over his shoulder before returning my eyes to him. I was expecting a lecture, but instead saw an amused grin that he didn't try to hide.

"She's got an attitude problem," I snarled. I usually wasn't so quick to anger; that brought to my attention that perhaps I had yet to really parce out and deal with my stress in adjusting to our circumstances. This, on the island, was as far out of the norm as I could conceive of.

Jake looked between Alice and me, apparently seeking a better explanation than that.

"Rosalie essentially accused us of hording her water ration. She's crabby and taking it out on Bella." Alice winked at me, the playful little thing, and I lost it. Her choice of words instigated an irrationally hysterical laughter that I was helpless to contain. I doubled over, gripping Jake's arm for balance as my body shook and my stomached tightened while I laughed far too desperately.

"Uh…Bella?" I tried to compose myself, gulping down air and forcing the crazy to return to a more polite level.

"It's fine," I assured him. "Really. No big thing."

"I didn't know you could curse," he stated like he might have been a little impressed or proud. True, I didn't do it often. I shrugged in answer. "Okay, because I think Barbie could put the hurt on you." I frowned at Jake's easy dismissal of my brutal skills.

"I'm the only daughter of a cop," I reminded him. "Maybe Charlie taught me kung fu. You don't know."

"I don't get girls," he rolled his eyes. "Are you two going to behave now?" His gaze danced between a still-giggling Alice and me. She looked at me conspiratorially, her lips twisting to one side. "Whatever," he groaned. "Just remember we've only got one doctor." Jake looked over me once more before bending down and handing me another massive dose of relief and optimism hanging by a nylon strap. "I found your backpack."

"Jake!" I snatched my backpack from his hand and quickly let it fall to the sand, nearly forgotten except for the gratitude it inspired in me. "I can't believe you found it. Thank you," I launched myself at him, gripping him tightly around the neck and hugging him sincerely. "So much."

"It's time," Alice announced as Jake separated from me. Jasper approached us, James and Victoria straggling behind him a few paces.

"A few of us are going to go out in search of a water source and more food," he greeted us casually. "You want to come along?"

"Yes," I answered confidently.

Jake slung his arm over my shoulder. "Sure," he replied. I suppose that was a given.

* * *

**End Notes: **Flesh-and-blood Edward will make an appearance, in the rain, in the next chapter. Promise. I'll make it worth your while.

Coming up: Death, suspicion, violation, and judgement. Remember how I said this story was going to get a little intense?


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience._

**A/N:** I lied. I'm sorry. I shouldn't make promises. I know, I suck. Hate me in the reviews if you must, I've earned it.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

I found a secluded spot behind some brush where I changed shirts to put on the long-sleeved one Alice provided for me. It was uncomfortably warm, but she did have a point. Better to protect as much of my body as possible from picking up scratches and cuts as we trudged through the jungle. I changed shoes to put on the hiking boots before returning to the beach.

Jake and I had staked out our little area away from the wreckage near the signal fire, so I left the bag Alice prepared for me there and strapped on my own backpack. Just having it with me—the one I'd carried through most of high school and then college because it held together just fine and there was no reason to replace it—gave me a renewed sense of something sort of like confidence. If that wasn't quite accurate, then maybe security was better. Either way, I would cling to this backpack like a lifeline home. Yes, I was becoming a bit more optimistic.

As I made my way back down the beach to join the others, Rosalie stood in my path. Great. I narrowed my eyes at her; ready to accept her challenge should she instigate round two. I was already formulating by snide retort in my head.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out like she was ripping a bandage from infected skin: painful and unwanted.

"Whatever." She hardly sounded sincere. Had someone threatened not to feed her if she didn't make nice?

Rose glared for a second, not pleased with my response, but she sighed heavily and rearranged her features. Rather, it looked as though she just let the attitude drop for a moment to reveal the true haggard exhaustion behind her eyes. I softened a bit to the new look.

"I am sorry," she repeated. "I was out of line."

I took a breath, meeting her halfway to tamp down my automatic response. "I didn't behave much better," I conceded. "We're all on edge and stressed out. Let's just forget about it."

She nodded in acceptance like she was glad to have that out of the way, but something more lingered behind her lips as she glanced around at nothing in particular.

"Rose?" She settled her eyes on mine. "Is it okay if I call you that?" She had the look of a lonely kid on the playground that was waiting for anyone to invite her to come and play. Like she just wanted that one opening to admit she was dying to jump on the monkey bars.

"I don't mind it," she responded noncommittally.

I had her here, making nice, and it might be a brief ceasefire. Before the opportunity escaped me and her claws came out, I had just one thing I needed to know.

"Rose, what you said last night, that no one was coming for us. What did you mean?"

Her eyes turned serious and she fixed her gaze on me with resolve. "You're going with the others into the jungle?"

"Yes."

"You need to look for the cockpit," she instructed me. I had the sense this was the real reason she'd approached me with the olive branch. Had no one else bothered to dig for more information? I'd shown interest.

Rose looked over her shoulder and then nudged me further away from the rest of the people on the beach until we were under the shade of the trees. "Like Laurent said, we went hundreds of miles of course. The radio went dead when we hit turbulence. We were approaching the heavy traffic lanes and the pilot diverted to ensure we wouldn't encounter a near miss until we could reestablish contact with Honolulu. We had enough fuel to circle for a few hours if necessary. The transponder stopped broadcasting, Bella. Do you understand?"

Yes, I understood, and that sinking feeling like dropping altitude on the plane settled in my gut. A shiver ran down my legs, dread and a heavy dose of reality overtaking me.

"We're nowhere near our last broadcast transmission," she continued. "They're looking for us in the wrong place. No one is coming out this far."

Rose wasn't panicked or on the verge of tears. Her calm and focused demeanor was that of acceptance. She'd known long before the rest of us just how bad our situation truly was. While others were holding out hope for rescue boats and the Coast Guard, Rosalie had been coming to terms with the fact that we were all completely screwed.

"Why the cockpit?" If the radio was shot before the crash, what hope did we have to fix it now? It wasn't like we had a Radio Shack.

"All aircraft carry a handheld radio in case of emergency. The range isn't as long as the internal system, but it will allow us to transmit to anyone that might be nearby. If there are boats out there or another inhabited island close enough to hear us, we have to try."

"I wouldn't even know where to start looking. Why don't you come with us?"

"I would." She looked down regretfully as her face contorted. "I have asthma and I don't have my inhaler. It was in my luggage in the forward cabin. There's no way I could make it hiking in this heat."

"Rose," my concern for her gripped me, "you have to tell Carlisle. Maybe he can help somehow, give you something else. I—"

"I don't want anyone else to know," she answered adamantly. Her eyes locked with mind in command. "You can't tell them. I'm fine if I pace myself and don't over do it. I don't want them hovering over me and treating me like an invalid. I can take care of myself."

An image of Randall sitting alone, forlorn and feeling useless, flashed behind my eyes. Rose didn't want to be him: sidelined and pitied.

"Why me?" Really, what would possess her to confess the truth about the radio and her condition to me of all people? Other than Emmett and maybe Jake, I had to be on her list of least favorite castaways.

"Because I feel like I can trust you." She smiled and half rolled her eyes as she said it, telling me she wasn't exactly thrilled with the statement. "We don't have to like each other, but I think I'm a pretty good judge of character. I interact with enough people every day to know a trustworthy person when I see one."

"Tell me what I'm looking for," I answered definitively.

xXx

The plush green environment that enveloped us as we ventured further into its core was a liquid bath of humidity. Maybe less than an hour in, all of us were drenched in sweat and peeling up our sleeves. The thick air, hot and heavy as it met my lungs, was a struggle to inhale. Though the sent was fresh and clean, so much like Washington—home—if completely opposite, the reality of losing so much water under the insulating canopy was daunting. The ocean breeze could not penetrate through the tangled vines and lush leaves that shielded us from the sun but trapped the lingering heat.

Arizona was a dry heat—oppressive in its own right—but lacked the clinging moisture that felt more like drinking than breathing. Except the water was strained out of the air through inhalation and did nothing to hydrate me, rather stripping me further of water like the outer molecules were bonding through my skin and wringing me dry even as my flesh became slick with sweat. I'd never been so wet and so thirsty at the same time.

Rather than concentrating on thirst as I trudged carefully behind Jasper and beside Jake, James and Victoria following behind, I busied my mind with studying the plant species around for anything I recognized. I considered that for all the dense and plentiful foliage, there must be an abundant water source that fed the island just under the surface of the forest floor. This was the right latitude for an equatorial rainforest, which meant frequent showers and a full freshwater basin that served veins reaching out over the landscape.

Or it just rained a lot.

Either would do.

Alice's words sounded in my head repeatedly, but I could no longer dare the sky to open up as it was fully obstructed from view. Now would be a great time for her to prove us all wrong for doubting her. I just hoped the others on the beach collected enough firewood for the cabin before the prophesized downpour. Laurent and his crew seemed well on their way to devising a few shelters among the trees on the edge of the beach.

One bright spot in our mission thus far was the discovery of bountiful fruit trees. Alice hadn't ventured far when she gathered our first day's worth of food. We collected more as we worked our way into the jungle and left markers behind by way of gashes in tree trunks to point the way and remind us where the food could be found again later. We wouldn't starve, but we had to do better than fruit. I made note of leafy plants that were edible, but the ugly truth was someone had to learn how to hunt barehanded real soon. So far, only insects and birds made their presence known, nothing so edible or catchable as to hunt for meat.

A vegetarian lifestyle is all well and good in civilization, but humans need more than fruit. We needed protein and iron. So far, fishing gear was not among our luggage. I started mentally running down what sort of shellfish might exist in this region. The rock outcropping that hid the bend in the beach would be a good place to start looking.

I sucked another bit of mango from the skin, greedily absorbing every tiny drop of moisture from the ripe fruit. I had a few packets of trail mix in my backpack that I'd bought in the airport because I hated airline food. Secretly, I was reserving those for a dire need. I had every intention to share if need be, but I preferred to know there was a stash of food in my care if things took a turn for the worse. We'd found similar snacks in various bags, which were all now in the communal storage, but this was my emergency reserve.

I had yet to mention to anyone what Rose told me about the radio. I also didn't bring up my secondary mission of seeking out the cockpit in the unlikely event we stumbled upon it. I figured I'd wait to tell everyone just how screwed we were until we found the only instrument that could change that circumstance. No sense giving them one more thing to worry about.

"So, what's your story, Starfish?"

No one had said much since we set out on our trek. James' voice nearly startled me when he spoke in his thick Aussie accent.

I didn't respond at first, just glancing over my shoulder behind me to see his smug grin flare in my direction. I didn't much care for that look.

"You and Tonto already set to repopulate the human race in your private Eden?"

"The fuck did you just say?" Jake shot a glance over his shoulder, not breaking stride as he glared behind him.

Starfish? Was that supposed to be cute?

"Easy, kemo sabe." James' smirk grew wider. "I'm just asking if the territory has been claimed."

Jasper glanced back at me, silent concern behind his eyes that were partially covered by a few loose strands of his wavy hair falling down his forehead.

"Keep your hands to yourself," Jake warned.

"I'm sure I was talking to the lady," James replied with false civility. He made the word "lady" sound trashy, even with an accent that I otherwise enjoyed.

"I'm not answering that," I replied flatly. There was no positive outcome for engaging such a topic. I'd only encourage his chatter if I fed into it with denial or confirmation.

"If the little Indian in his cupboard isn't doing it for you, I'd be happy to entertain you for the evening. Slide into my sleeping bag for a night down under."

Seriously? "Has that ever worked?" I asked in disgusted disapproval. His gall and not-at-all-clever crassness was so far from a turn on, my libido was looking at a widespread blackout.

"Watch your mouth," Jake snarled in return. His fists balled at his sides and I saw the strain in his muscles. He wanted to hit him.

Chancing a glance at Victoria, she didn't look amused. Her eyes drifted off, apparently pretending not to witness any of it. I didn't blame her. I'd rather pretend to be somewhere else too.

"Cut it out," Jasper snapped curtly like a father scolding his children in the back seat of the minivan.

"Ignore him," Jake stated as my eyes met his.

"All you've got to say is that you prefer dark meat, baby. I'm not going to square off for your honor, I'm just looking for something soft and warm to keep me company at night."

"I said," Jake stopped and rounded on James, "you don't talk to her. Last warning."

"I'd take a step back if I were you," James responded calmly and a smug smile still curving his lips. I moved to Jake, putting my hand on his arm to urge him back, when we both noticed the knife pointed at his ribcage.

Jasper crossed to Jacob's side where James held the knife; his eyes were trained on the man threatening the only real friend I had on the island. Victoria took a step away from us, slinking behind James.

"Jake, back off." I tugged his arm forcefully. He didn't immediately comply. When he ripped his eyes from the weapon aimed at his abdomen, his gaze burned hot with anger—no trace of fear. "Jake, please."

I yanked him again and he moved a few steps backward. "Like I said," James practically slithered the words off his tongue as he stared at Jake, "I was just having a friendly conversation with the girl. Best to keep a polite distance, Tonto."

In a blink, James' arm was wrenched behind his back and the knife fell to the ground while Jasper shoved him to his knees without a word. James grunted, his face contorting in pain, though he seemed determined to refrain from calling out.

"You want to take a shot?" Jasper's cool and collected gaze fell on Jake. He held James immobile on the ground; a headlock secured around his neck and James' right arm bent painfully behind his back. "Or take one for her." Jasper's eyes flickered to mine.

"No," I answered quickly. "Jake, don't." I held fast to his tense arm, begging that he not take this any further.

He looked down at me, torn and ready to argue. The need to hit something was clear in the twitching muscles of his jaw. Jake bent down and took the knife. "Let him go," he replied in a low, barely controlled tone.

Jasper released James to topple to the ground, sucking in air and letting out an angry growl. The fully emasculated man quickly regained his posture and stood, glaring at the three of us.

Jake took the dull side of the knife in his fingers and aimed the handle at James' chin. "Take it," he dared. "You might need it."

James' smile had vanished, replaced with a deep wickedness. "Real friendly company you're keeping, Starfish."

"Jacob," Jasper warned. "I wouldn't."

"Just a misunderstanding. Right, mate?" Jake wiggled the handle of the knife in James' face like a dog biscuit to a hungry puppy. "No big thing."

James took the knife, leery of Jake, and shoved it back in the leather sheath. It was one of Emmett's.

"There won't be a next time," Jasper informed James in a deadly serious tone. "That was your one free pass. You pull a weapon on someone again, I'll kill you."

He meant it. Plain as day in his unyielding stare was the willingness and ability to take a life.

James slimy gaze lingered on me for a moment, but he didn't say a word before he turned and stalked back through the brush the way we'd come into the jungle.

"Are you okay?" Jake put his hands on my shoulders and looked me over as if I'd taken the hits that were ready to explode between the men.

"Fine," I answered numbly. How did we go from survival to ripping each other apart in just one day? Was there hope for any of us?

"Victoria?" Jasper's voice gained our attention and Jake and I turned to see her retreating with a regretful expression. "You're not going after him."

"I have to," she replied as her eyes continued to drift toward James' path. "I'm really sorry about him," she offered meekly. "He just gets…he just likes to talk. He wouldn't hurt anyone. I swear."

"You really don't need to follow him," Jake answered. "The guy's an asshole. With any luck, he won't find his way back to the beach."

"He's my husband." She turned and left us, chasing after the man I hadn't even realized she was acquainted with at all. They'd slept separately and barely spoke to one another around the fire last night. The couple had passed themselves off as perfect strangers for all I could tell.

"Let's go," Jasper ordered briskly. "We need to keep moving."

xXx

Jacob kept his hand securely locked with mine as we continued on our journey deeper into the jungle. I wasn't sure if it was for his peace of mind or mine, but I made no move to discourage him. He brushed off the altercation with James easily. Maybe it was a guy thing, but I wasn't so convinced that James was all talk and no bite. He seemed perfectly willing to use that knife and Jake just gave it back to him.

Then there was Jasper. That he took James down with skilled precision and seemingly little effort had me curious. I knew nothing of his background. Now my curiosity was piqued. Alice must have learned something about him; she insisted that I could trust him. After his display today, I was leaning toward agreeing with her. I definitely wasn't going to put myself on his bad side.

"We'll rest here for a minute." Jasper came to a halt under a towering tree with vines running up the wide trunk.

Relieved to take a break from walking—the hiking boots were giving me blisters, though I wouldn't complain—I dropped my backpack to the ground and sat. Jasper pulled a water bottle out of his bag and handed it to me first.

"Take a third," he instructed. "I've got one more in my bag for the walk back."

I nodded, tilting the bottle back and gently sipping. I experimented with Alice's method: small sips, swish, swallow, and lick my lips. Maybe it was just a compulsive habit of hers, but it gave me at least the illusion that I was drinking more than I really was.

When I was done, I passed it over to Jacob. He gulped his share down quickly and handed it off to Jasper. I puzzled over him for a moment, trying to discern something about him. So far, I'd only found him to be quiet, reserved, and coolly in control. He had an implacable air about him, but not mean. He was just…distant.

Jasper caught me looking at him when he pulled the empty bottle from his lips and held my gaze. I should have torn my eyes away with apology—he was hard to stare at and not feel small—but I found myself transfixed. Oddly, like Alice, I felt intelligence behind his eyes. I felt it, because he betrayed nothing visually. It was as if Jasper and I were sharing a secret, except I was woefully clueless what that was.

"Hey, not that I'm not having a great time," Jake spoke up, "but do we have any idea where we're going? I mean, are we just walking in circles and hoping we fall in a lake?"

"I was following you," Jasper answered without looking at him.

"You're shitting me? We really are getting lost in the damn jungle."

Jasper glanced up under his lashes, fixing his blue eyes on mine. And then he winked. "I thought you people were supposed to be good at this," he deadpanned.

"You people? Really? Does my nametag say 'Sniffs for Water'? I'm not your seeing-eye Native."

Jasper's lips barely twitched with a smile. Poor Jake, he'd had a hard day and Jasper was trying to take the edge off in the most inappropriate way.

For the first time, I started to notice the slight drawl to Jasper's voice. It was barely there and only evident on certain syllables, but I think those were as many words as I'd heard him say in two days.

"He's messing with you," I nudged Jacob playfully. "Texans have a terrible sense of humor."

"You're hilarious," Jake responded with annoyance.

"I see you've got me pegged." Jasper leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, looking at me for an explanation.

"Your accent," I answered with a shrug. "My stepfather is from San Antonio, so Texas was my best guess. But yours isn't so thick."

He didn't comment on my observation, simply nodding his understanding. I guess I wasn't getting much more information out of him.

"Back to my original question." Jake waited expectantly as he eyed Jasper.

"Animal tracks," Jasper replied dryly. "They need water too." Good point. "We're following what is probably a family of wild boar. Two offspring and the mother, I think."

"Okay." Jake's eyebrow rose, impressed but skeptical. "How do you know so much?"

"I hunt." Jasper leaned back against the tree and shut his eyes, effectively telling us he was done talking.

For a few minutes, the three of us just sat in silence. I listened to the sounds of the jungle and closed me eyes, pretending that my surroundings were transformed into the dense forest of Forks where little animals skittered across the leafy floor. Most of all, I willed my mind to imagine a crisp spring chill in the air. I once craved the heat, especially when I first left Phoenix for Forks. Now? I'd give damn near anything for the stinging cold of the Pacific Northwest.

A bead of sweat hit the back of my hand as a tiny splashing droplet. I reached up and wiped my brow without opening my eyes. Another slid down the side of my face from my temple. Another meandered down my nose to slip over my top lip. My tongue darted out, capturing the drop. It wasn't salty, though it tasted faintly of sunblock. Then another drop hit me square on the forehead. Finally, I opened my eyes. In quick succession, three little puddles formed on my forearm.

"Get up!" I shouted to the resting men. "It's starting to rain." I shuffled to my feet and grabbed the empty water bottle beside Jasper.

Both men sat up and looked toward the sky, though the tree canopy still mostly obstructed the view. It was definitely darker now, hopefully evidence of storm clouds. The little drizzle slowly increased as the noise of rain falling on leaves and dripping to the ground created a welcomed symphony.

"Holy shit, it's really raining," Jake exclaimed joyfully.

He hurried to dump all of our empty water bottles out of his backpack. Each of us gathered several and stood around a single tree to capture the wide leaves—like serving platters—to create a trough for collecting and pouring water into the bottles. With a loud clap of thunder, the rain began falling more heavily.

Jake and I were giddy, smiling like fools and laughing as our bottles began to fill faster and faster. Soon it was a full deluge of pouring rain.

"Man," Jake shouted with his face tilted toward the sky, "I never thought I'd miss the rain."

"I'll never complain about Seattle weather again," I agreed with a wide smile.

"That's the last." Jasper twisted the cap back onto the last of the water bottles and knelt down to fill his backpack with as many as possible. Jake and I did the same; each of us now carrying considerably more weight than when we'd started our hike. "We should head back and try again tomorrow."

I nodded, lifting my bag to my shoulders and trying in vain to wipe away the water falling down my face. Okay, water need met. New wish: a hair tie. My hair slid wet and heavy down around my eyes, mocking me every time I pushed it back. Jake smirked at my dilemma and I huffed my annoyance as I fell in step behind Jasper to make the long walk back to the beach. I didn't question that he knew his way back, even with the storm obscuring our vision—it was pouring so thick we could barely see ten feet in front of us through the silver curtain—because he looked like a man with a clear sense of direction.

I kept my eyes on the ground to watch for holes, deep puddles of murky mud, and the occasional stick root that would send me head over heels. A few times I stumbled clumsily, but Jacob was right beside me to steady my uncertain steps.

My shoulders ached and I was shivering incessantly as the cold dampness seeped straight to my bones. Ah, be careful what you wish for. I was grateful for the rain that replenished our temporary water supply, but was now begging for the clear skies and sunshine that I'd scorned all morning. Rather than say a word, I kept my mouth shut and swallowed down any thought of voicing my complaints.

As we passed under a natural arch of two trees hugging one another, thick vines entwined to create a small area of coverage from the majority of the rain's pummeling assault, Jasper came to a halt.

"We should hold tight here and try to wait out the storm," he suggested. "I'm losing the trail we cut on the way in and it's getting harder to find our path. I don't want to run the risk of walking us in circles."

"It will only get darker the longer we wait," Jake responded warily. It was still daylight, but we were creeping into late afternoon.

"I'd rather stop while I still know which way we're pointed rather than risk getting lost in the dark. If we have to, we can hold up until morning. Either the sky clears and we can follow the sun back to the beach or head back out in the morning when visibility is better."

Something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked over, searching for the movement, but saw nothing but rain and more green. Jasper and Jake continued to argue the merits of holding up and maybe spending the night in the jungle as I scanned the area around us. Really, there wasn't much to see.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?" I tore my eyes away and looked back to Jake.

"We're going to wait it out, okay?"

Guess Jasper won that battle. "Yeah," I nodded, returning my eyes to the dense environment that surrounded us. Though I was reluctant to acknowledge it, a familiar sensation was creeping into mind and sliding under my skin: we were being watched.

At this point, I was very likely succumbing to paranoia due to a significant trauma. I was stranded in unfamiliar territory that could be classified as hostile, given that any one of an innumerable number of threats could kill or seriously injure me. Thirst and starvation were addressed for now, but there was always poisonous insects, reptiles and plants, bacterial infections, pneumonia, intestinal worms, heat stroke—

"Bella!"

"Yeah?" Jake's hands were on my shoulders, shaking me to attention. I blinked to focus my eyes, realizing I'd completely zoned out. "Sorry. What did you say?"

Even as I told myself to look at him and acknowledge the fact that Jake was talking—maybe asking me a question or explaining that Seal Team Six had dropped from the canopy with a Black Hawk waiting to take us home—my curiosity was again drawn into the distance.

Paranoia or brain parasites, there was something out there and it was definitely watching us. It was him, I thought to myself. It had to be. I tuned out Jake's voice, though I nodded a couple times and hummed a generic response, dismissed the noise of rain smacking the trees and splashing to the ground, and just concentrated on the prevalent feeling of energy pulling me in one particular direction. It was insistent; growing more persuasive the longer I stared out after it.

"What is it?" Jasper's hand on my shoulder snapped me out of my internalization. He spoke softly, looking out at the jungle rather than at me, as if he was trying to discern what had captured my attention so fully.

Truthfully, I couldn't explain it, but I simply needed to follow the energy that was tugging at me. Irrationally, I felt as though not following would cause me pain. My eyes scanned the distance, and just before I was prepared to lie, I saw an object lodged high in a tree that clearly did not belong.

"Look at that," I pointed out. "The taller tree to the left, on the fourth branch up from the ground."

Jasper followed my gaze thirty feet off the ground to see the airline seat conspicuously nestled in the enormous tree.

"It probably fell out when the plane broke apart," Jake noted with disinterest. "What's the big deal?"

"It's from the first class cabin." Jasper's answering tone was somber, but I detected the note of understanding. He was coming to the same conclusion as our eyes met with a loaded glance.

"Alice said the forward section of the plane was in tact when we first hit the ground." I looked to Jake, explaining my plan to hopefully gain his agreement. One way or another, I needed to try and find the radio. If I were being honest, it was the tug of that peculiar something that drew my eyes toward the debris in the first place. I had to follow it, if only to finally convince myself that it never existed in the first place.

"If we can find more debris, we it might lead us back to the initial crash site." To the cockpit. "There might be other survivors from the front of the plane." I held out no hope for the captain or co-pilot.

"I thought we were waiting out the storm?" Jake sounded agitated and none too thrilled with the idea of setting off on a new exploratory mission. "If we take off now, how will we find our way back here? Or back to the beach for that matter?"

"I think this is worth the risk," Jasper answered him before I had to flounder for a good excuse. "If we find more debris, we follow it. If not, we'll turn back."

"We can still mark the trees to find our way back to this spot," I added encouragingly. "Jasper can get us back to the beach from here, right?"

"When the weather clears," he nodded, "yes."

Jake's reluctance was clear as he deliberated over us. I considered admitting to the relevant reason we needed to search for the cockpit—it was on the tip of my tongue as a last resort when the urge pulling me increased discernably—but Jake sighed and hoisted his backpack to his shoulders.

"Let's do this. I'm freezing my ass off just standing around."

xXx

Like a melancholic trail of breadcrumbs, scattered bits of the plane's outer hull and interior fixtures, along with more pieces of luggage that we searched quickly for anything especially useful that we didn't have on the beach, drew us deeper into the jungle. The brush and thick overgrowth of tangled vines grew denser and more difficult to maneuver through. Jasper literally cut our way into the damp and shadowed disorder.

All the while, with every step forward, I felt the presence that tugged at me grow nearer and more persistent. Subtly, I commandeered the role of navigator. No longer following in line behind Jasper, I stood at his side and veered our path by whatever internal compass was determined to guide me. The feeling—the consuming need I had to journey this route—was beyond comprehension or my ability to properly analyze and categorize it. Any time Jasper steered us too far from my intended path, a sudden headache erupted behind my eyes, demanding that I right our course.

We walked the seemingly unending trail for some time. The rain eventually tapered off and ceased all together. When the sun broke free of the clouds to cast down broken rays through the canopy, the angle and dim color gave evidence that it was well into late afternoon.

I glanced to Jake; he looked bored and on the verge of mutiny. Jasper appeared to be nearing the point of declaring that we walk back or camp before dark. Neither option was acceptable.

The motivation to find our destination, whether that was the cockpit or the edge of my sanity when I realized I'd guided us absolutely nowhere, was absolute. This absurd exercise in indulging the voices in my head would come to an end only when I was satisfied to let them put me in a padded room or I was confronted with the reality that the figurative voices were speaking the literal truth. I refused to consider which would be worse.

Something glinting in the distance caught my attention. I stopped dead in my tracks, looking off to my left, and then shifting back and forth as I dared the glint to find me again.

"You see something?" Jasper and Jake backpeddled and stood at my side, peering into the tangled mess that had captured my attention several yards away.

Mostly all I saw was more of the same: trees, vines, brush. All shades of green and brown that muddled together until it felt like you weren't looking at anything at all, just a canvass awash in monotone sameness.

"Hey." Jake mimicked my shifting movements to his left and right. "There is something over there." He hurried closer and Jasper and I followed.

A sense of relief—not emotional, but like a valve opening to release an immense pressure—flooded through me.

"It's the plane!" Jake ran toward the mostly obscured aircraft, but as we got closer, I realized we were staring at the nose of the plane covered in mug and sitting in a deep trench from the impact.

Fallen tree limbs thick with leaves and more foliage blanketed the huge front end of the place. We found the cockpit, but there wasn't much attached to it.

I stood, astonished and marveling at the disembodied head of the slain beast, for several seconds. Jake was already working his way up the backside to enter through the torn hull behind the cockpit.

Did I really expect to find it? Not when I set out on this endeavor. Was I surprised? Oddly, no.

I moved closer, walking toward the open section, and then Jasper put his hand on my shoulder. "I need to get in there," I told him as his searching eyes scanned me. I heard Jake make noise and glanced at him trying to pull himself up a rope of vines to climb inside.

"Aww, man!" Jake exclaimed loudly. "It's not pretty in here."

"How many?" Jasper called to him with a grim tone. Right, the bodies. I'd all but forgotten we might be coming up on more corpses. I was nearly desensitized to the notion by this point.

"Sixteen," he answered flatly. "It's pretty bad."

No, I didn't want to go digging through a tomb of mangled bodies. Still, rescue was the possible reward for the effort.

Several loud banging noises echoed through the jungle, accompanied by Jake's grunting, and then the primary cabin hatch on the side facing us flew open. "Jasper, you want to try and climb up the front? There's no way I'm getting through the cockpit door. We should try the radio, right?"

The windshield was busted out with a thick branch protruding through one side. Jasper nodded to Jake and released my shoulder as he walked toward the nose of the plane. Jake hopped down, landing with a thud on the forest floor.

"Jasper," I whispered, "wait."

He turned, an expectant look on his face.

"You two give me a boost and I'll go in."

"Bella, you don't need to see what's in there."

"I'm the smallest," I reasoned. "It will be easier for me to through."

He waited a moment, again studying my face for the answer I wasn't prepared to give him just yet. Finally, he nodded and escorted me to the nose where Jake was waiting.

"Help me give her a boost," Jasper instructed Jake. He knelt down and I put one hand on his shoulder to balance.

"What are you doing? No way I'm letting you crawl in there."

"Jake, please. You're too big to fit through the windshield and Jasper isn't much smaller. It'll be easier for me." I placed my foot in Jasper's waiting hand and paused. "I'll do it without your permission, but I think Jasper would appreciate the help lifting me up."

Jake rolled his eyes and sighed in resignation. It wasn't as if I hadn't seen my fair share of carnage already. He couldn't hope to shield me anymore. Kneeling on my other side, I put my foot in Jake's hand and steadied myself on his shoulder, likewise doing the same with Jasper.

"Please don't make me come in there after you," Jake groaned. "I got enough stuff to carry back to the beach."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be careful."

"One," Jasper counted and he looked up at Jake. "Two. Three." Easily, the two men launched to their feet and raised me into the air. I leaned forward, bracing myself against the nose of the place, but it was too slippery and I still wasn't high enough to try and climb up.

"Higher," I ordered. Both raised their hands to get me closer, but it wasn't enough. Jasper as at a height disadvantage to Jake.

"Lock your lands and hold on." I felt Jake shift below me as I complied and leaned my weight onto the rounded front of the plane. Mud slathered over the front of my shirt and my cheek. "Put your foot on my shoulder, Bella." Again, wobbling and nearly falling on my ass, I slowly took my foot from his hand and stepped on his shoulder. Quickly, Jasper released me and I pulled my other foot to do the same.

"Now," Jake grunted as he found his footing and slid his hands up my legs, "don't get too excited." That was a poor warning. I felt him grab me firmly by the back of both thighs, just under my butt, and all but toss me at the plane. Scurring to latch onto the vines hanging from the top, I pulled myself up and over the nose.

"You okay?"

When I was sure I had my footing I peered down at the men on the ground below me. "Yeah," I assured Jake. "Good. Just uh…don't go anywhere. Yeah?"

"Hurry it up. You know what you're doing up there?"

"I think I can figure out how to use a radio." Not that I expected it to work. I'd give it a shot, but finding the handheld was my priority.

There was jagged glass hanging from the frame of the windshield on the open side, so I kicked at it until the bigger pieces fell away. Already, the dead co-pilot was staring me in the face. I swallowed hard and simply refused to freak out and freeze up. They didn't know it yet, but everyone on the beach was counting on me to work up the nerve to do this. We needed that radio. No chickening out this time.

Carefully, I slid across the mud-covered hood and climbed into the cockpit. Obviously, the smell was atrocious. I pulled the collar of my shirt up over my nose, though it didn't help at all. The pilot was slumped over the dashboard with is head turned away from me. At least that. Inside, the cockpit was more horrific that words. Blood was smeared and splashed like splatter paint. Still, I tamped down my natural response and found the internal radio.

As Rose had instructed me, I flipped nobs and turned dials, but nothing happened. There was no power at all. Expectedly, the main radio was useless. I quickly abandoned it and looked around me. On the wall were several small cabinet doors. Co-pilot side, third one down.

A black rectangle with a thick antenna was sitting in the cubby, just as Rose had described. The handheld radio was essentially a really complicated-looking walkie-talkie. There were four dials and a keypad on the face with a narrow display screen. For a moment, I considered turning it on right away. A hopeful surge of excitement nearly convinced me that someone would be on the other end, just waiting there to hear from us. Then I thought better of it. We didn't know how long the batter would last and I had no idea how to work the damn thing.

"Bella? Does it work? Anything?"

"I'm coming back down," I shouted to Jake. I tucked the radio into the back of my jeans and carefully crawled back through the windshield while trying my best to avoid slicing myself on the remnants of broken glass that covered the dash and hood.

"So I take that as a no?" Jake looked defeated. I think he really believed we'd simply turn on the radio and call out a "mayday."

"Get ready to catch me," I called down. No way was I going out the cockpit door to the forward cabin. Two corpses for a radio-okay. Sixteen? Pass.

I turned my stomach to the front of the plane and plastered myself over the top of the nose. I was sopping wet, covered in mud, and may very well be sleeping like this tonight. Wonderful. "Do not drop me," I scolded him.

"Shut up and jump," he answered impatiently.

With a deep breath, I slid my body down the curve of the nose and dropped to Jake's arms. He caught me easily around the waist before my feet him the ground and then set me down gently.

"What's this?" Without permission, he yanked the radio from my pants. Grabby Mr. Grabby Hands.

"An aviation transceiver," Jasper answered. He held out his hand, accepting the device and looking at me in question. "Bella, how'd you know where to find this?"

Both men looked at me with suspicion. Rightly so, I suppose. I wiped the mud from my face and slopped it off the front of my clothes, though it helped little. It was time they knew, and so I explained my conversation with Rose before we left the beach. Jake's response was to look at me slack jawed before stomping off to pace in agitation with his hands cupped over his head. Jasper, on the other hand, regarded me with that same cool impassiveness that was his resting position.

"Fucking Barbie couldn't have mentioned something sooner?"

"She tried," I reminded Jake. "You shut her down, remember?"

"So does the damn thing work?" He turned around, snapping his eyes to Jasper. "That's our last shot, right?"

In his hand, Jasper held what was likely our best and only hope of calling for rescue. Though they were blissfully unaware, the fate of sixteen others on the beach resided in a little plastic box.

And it didn't work.

Yes, the display lit up and he fiddled with the dials a few times. We reached out into the ether and only static answered back.

Twins gusts of air left Jacob and I as we expelled our anticipation to make room for utter disappointment.

Jasper insisted that we only needed to seek higher ground in order to get better reception and find a signal. That would be tomorrow's mission. Keeping looking for a water source while venturing back into the jungle toward the rocky peaks—not what anyone from Arizona or Washington would call mountains; that was the plan. With the last hours of daylight quickly extinguishing, we set out toward the beach. All the while, I wasn't sure what to think of the peculiar experience I'd endured.

We found the cockpit. We found the transceiver. But if something was really pushing me in that direction, rather than just my own subconscious and a trail of debris, wouldn't some kind of significant progress have been made? This didn't feel like progress. It felt like the line ride: walking an endless cue of stanchions and rope only to discover there was nothing at the end. I felt cheated, duped, and no longer sure of my own reliability.

* * *

**End Notes:** I'm not going to say it. I won't. I will not tell you that Edward REALLY will show up in the next chapter and that two more survivors will lose their lives. I won't do anything of the kind because I have learned my lesson.


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience._

* * *

**Chapter 9**

The atrocious, nauseating stench of human flesh burning—a smell I regretted had become too familiar—reached us several minutes before we crossed out of the trees and stepped foot on the sandy beach. Twice I doubled over to expel what little I'd eaten, but I managed to hold back the reflex—swallowing down the liquid that rose in my throat. No matter how strong the need to vomit, I simply couldn't afford to do so. Entirely too much work and too many hours went in to putting down the food and water in my stomach.

For all we'd worried about finding our way back to camp as the day slipped into the first shadows of darkness, we should have anticipated the smell and thick billows of smoke to guide us. On the beach, we emerged from the jungle to see our fellow castaways huddled around the campfire several yards upwind of the inferno that burned hot and wild inside the gutted plane cabin.

"We missed it," I spoke aloud beside Jasper and Jacob as we trudged tiredly to the group.

Jasper nodded and looked at me sympathetically. "Carlisle planned to lead everyone in a short memorial of sorts. I'm sure it was appropriate."

"So how does this go down?" Jake looked to Jasper.

We hadn't discussed how or what to tell the others about the radio. On the march back to the beach, none of us had spoken much at all. The weight of tomorrow's task weighed heavy on us all.

"Bella?" Jasper turned the question to me, which I suppose was logical. I naturally felt the will to defer to him, but Rose did come to me. As we approached, her eyes were the first to look up and lock on mine.

"I think we tell them we found the cockpit and the transceiver," I answered Jasper. "Unless Rosalie speaks up, I don't think we should mention any more than that."

"Radio waves travel further at night and we're open on the shore," Jasper replied. "I'll try the radio again tonight, but we can explain our plan to seek higher ground tomorrow."

Jake and I nodded our assent and the three of us took the last steps to join the others. We happened to walk up behind Carlisle, and he offered us a kind smile that was vacant of any true emotion. He looked like a shell of himself, but was still trying to put on a good show behind his sad blue eyes.

I swept my attention over the faces surrounding the fire in a semicircle, but noticed three were conspicuously missing. "James and Victoria?" I looked at Jasper and then to Carlisle. Randall was also absent, though I guessed he wasn't feeling very social.

"They returned a few hours ago. He seemed…" Carlisle paused for a beat, his lips tight as he deliberated. "James was clearly agitated." Jake snorted a laugh next to me. "He and the woman were arguing before they set out down the beach for more privacy."

"How long ago?" Jasper's eyes narrowed at Carlisle. I got the sense that he didn't like the idea of not knowing where they were now that we'd returned to the beach.

"Maybe an hour," Carlisle answered. "I wouldn't worry."

"Let him go lick his wounds," Jake muttered. "We're better off without him."

"Did something happen out there? I was surprised when they returned early." Carlisle's tone was genuinely concerned, though he looked disapprovingly at Jake before correcting his expression.

"Nothing worth mentioning," Jasper answered succinctly.

"You want to share with the rest of us?" Emmett spoke up, looking impatiently at our quartet. "You can show us your nature slideshow later."

"We did find more food and were able refill our water supply," Jasper began. No one looked terribly eager, which meant that they'd solved that problem well enough on their own during the rain. "But we didn't find a permanent water source." With that, a few expressions fell. "I'm confident we can find it, it will just take time. We only covered a small portion of the island."

"Bella?" I followed my name to Rosalie's hopeful eyes. She spoke gently, but obviously her patience had been thoroughly tested in waiting for us to return. I nodded in answer and watched the relief huff out of her lungs.

"What's up? I don't speak girl code." Emmett searched between the loaded stare between the blonde of his affection and me.

To equally surprised and cautiously hopeful expressions, Jasper and I explained finding the cockpit and transceiver. Rose remained quiet, which I took to mean she would rather be left out of the explanation. Perhaps it was fear of retaliation that she seemed content to hide the fact that she'd been one of the flight attendants. Not that I believed any of our group would blame her for the accident, her concern wasn't entirely unjustified with fifteen total strangers. Emotions were bound to spike as we endured our uncertain dilemma. In the heat of the moment, she could become an easy target for aggression.

"So we can call for help? They're looking for us, right?" Charlotte looked like she could barely keep her head up straight on her neck. Appearing exhausted with sunken eyes and chapped lips, she pulled herself from Peter's arm to shine her desperate gaze on Jasper. The shadows from the fire cast her in ghostly light.

"We did turn on the radio after we found it," he explained delicately, "but the reception was very weak."

"What does that mean?"

"I'd like to try again to send out a distress call," he answered her. "If we can't find a responsive frequency, we may still have better luck with venturing to higher ground where we will have better line-of-sight."

"The emergency transponder isn't broadcasting, is it?" My eyes snapped to Laurent. He sat stone-faced as he appraised Jasper and I.

"Wait, what?" Garrett stood, glaring at Laurent as if he was responsible. "How do you know that? He's wrong, isn't he?" He looked to Jasper and I to refute the man's statement. My mouth went dry and a rush of panic swam through my blood.

"We're hundreds of miles off course. Anyone who was sent out to find us is looking in the wrong location," he answered dryly. "Without the transponder broadcasting our location—"

"We don't know that," Jasper was quick to respond with authority. "The cockpit was severely damaged. I was barely able to slip inside to find the transceiver." He lied. Belying nothing on his face, Jasper took my place as he tried to stave off the confrontation building before us.

"But it could have been destroyed," Charlotte choked out behind a muffled sob. "They'll never find us."

"Hey," Jake jumped in, "we've got a radio and Jasper is going to keep trying. Chill out."

"Don't speak to my wife that way," Peter snapped. "Can't you see she's terrified?"

"That's what I'm trying to say," Jake responded in exasperation. "She's freaking herself out for no reason. This guy," he nodded at Laurent, "doesn't know what the hell he's talking about."

"He sure sounds like he does," Tanya chimed in. "You know about planes, don't you?"

"I served as a naval avionics technician," he replied in confirmation.

"Does Jamaica even have a navy?" Jake cocked his head to the side, feeding into the bubbling frustration and bickering.

"I'm an American," Laurent answered in offense.

"Why didn't you take him with you?" Irina stood beside Garrett with accusation leveled in our direction. "He might have been able to help. He could have—"

"Easy, lady." Jake's voice rose and he crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. "You think we're trying to avoid getting rescued? This isn't a conspiracy. Nothing in that cockpit worked, okay? It's just a mangled wreck of bodies like the tin can we crawled out of."

"You're a asshole," she snarled. Beside her, Tanya was quick to fall to pieces again. Garrett and Irina wrapped their arms around her and pulled her away as she sobbed for her dead sister.

"Jake," I quietly scolded him. "You're not helping."

"What the hell did I do?" He threw his hands up and gawked at me. "I spend all damn day gathering bodies, gutting the cabin, traipsing through the damn jungle to feed these people, and somehow I'm the bad guy?"

"I don't think anyone is accusing you of being the bad guy," Carlisle stepped in with a soft tone. He placed his hand on Jacob's shoulder. "We're all grateful for your help. It has been a long day and we're all tired. I think it best that we save further discussion on this for the morning."

Carlisle glanced around the circle, effectively dismissing everyone to his or her own devices for the night. Several crude shelters were situated on the edge of the tree line, and most wandered off in that direction. Rose gave me a parting look over her shoulder before quietly walking away. This was, no doubt, what she'd been trying to avoid.

When it was just the three of us left standing around the fire, I discarded my backpack and slumped to the ground. I immediately pulled off my shoes and socks and then took in my muddy and disheveled appearance. I needed to bathe again and change clothes, but at the moment all I wanted to do was rest. Everything ached, and I finally appreciated what it meant for one's hair to actually hurt.

Jasper and Jake sat down on either side of me, both weary and staring into the flames.

"I'm sorry," Jake admitted tiredly. "I got carried away. I just don't understand why everyone wants to jump to conclusions and act like we're going to die here or something. Planes just don't fall off the face of the Earth anymore, you know? Hell, even the Dalai Lama has a cell phone. There's bound to be someone out there that can hear our radio."

I wasn't sure about his assertion, but I kept that thought to myself. If nothing else, Jacob was determined to keep a positive outlook. That was, perhaps, his most endearing quality. Sure, he was impulsive at times, but I'd take that over the alternative. In his own way, he was keeping my hope alive. Making amends, I slid my arm through his and leaned against Jake's shoulder. I knew he didn't mean to upset anyone; he just lacked the tact to handle nearly hysterical women. Jacob wasn't the first man to suffer such inadequacy.

"We have to keep them busy," Jasper stated softly. "Attitudes are bound to decline and the result will be far worse than what we saw tonight. Until we can use the radio to make contact, the best we can do is to keep everyone occupied with something productive."

Jasper fiddled quietly with the radio for a minute or so, scanning frequencies for a stronger signal, but still all we heard was occasional static that broke through the silence. "I'll keep trying," he assured us. "Tomorrow will be our best shot. We should leave at dawn."

"Yeah, we should get some sleep." Jake stood and brushed himself off and then held his hand out to help me up.

"I need to get cleaned up," I told him as we both looked down at my muddy clothes.

"Sure," he nodded. "I'll scope out the shelter situation. Just uh…" he paused and scanned the beach. "Don't go too far, okay? And take a torch with you."

"I'll be fine."

I walked back up to where I'd left the backpack of extra clothes and toiletries and gathered up what I needed. Stopping briefly to grab a long stick out of the fire, I made my way back down the beach to the outcropping of rocks and then slipped around the bend to my secluded bathing spot. As before, I disrobed down to my bra and underwear before wading into the water to clean up. This time, I washed my hair and was glad to get the caked and cruddy muck off of me at last.

After rinsing myself and walking further into the waves to discard and wash my undergarments, I took the time to simply allow the sea to caress my body and the saltwater to ease away the soreness from my muscles. At the very least, my cuts and scrapes from the crash were healing quickly with dry exposure to clean air and salt baths.

As the silver light reflected by the moon glinted and swirled on the tide, I took in several deep breaths and then closed my eyes to appreciate the gentle ebb and flow of the ocean. Washington was entirely too cold to coax me into the surf back home. Here, despite the poor circumstances, I truly enjoyed the beach. For the first time since waking up to my new reality, I finally felt calm and fully relaxed.

When I opened my eyes and orientated myself with the shore, I saw that my torch had extinguished. That was, I supposed, my cue to get out of the tub. No need to encouraged Jacob to come looking for me again.

Dried and dressed, I collected my stuff and started back towards the populated side of the beach. I heard an unusual amount of commotion as I approached, and just before I rounded the bend, my heart stopped.

A gunshot.

Loud.

Close.

Unmistakable.

Screams pierced the darkness while I knelt in the sand with my hands covering my head. It was a gut reaction: take cover. My blood pumped heavy and panicked through my veins and my ears rang with the echo of the shot. I felt the crawling jolt of nervousness and adrenaline coursing through me. Fight or flight.

Horrified wailing and angry shouts reached me as if I were standing in the center of a raucous arena. Despite the distance, the unseen catastrophe felt close and suffocating.

For no good reason, my legs propelled me from the sand and I raced toward the campfire. At first, all I could make out were several silhouetted figures shrouded in blackness. Closer, I saw the evidentiary division. Eleven people stood to one side of an imaginary line. One lay unmoving in the sand. And one stood poised with an arm bent toward her head.

"Charlotte," Peter begged desperately, "Please, baby. Don't do this. Talk to me. We'll be okay. I promise you."

"He asked me to do it," she cried in a broken voice, her back to me. I barely made out the clothes on the bleeding body at her feet. Randall. "He asked me to."

I was stunned to immobility as I observed the drama playing out before me. It was surreal, like something from television but too present to be fiction.

"I can't do this," Charlotte professed in agony. "We're all going to die out here."

"Charlotte," Carlisle took a step forward and spoke with deceptive gentleness, considering the woman holding a gun to her head that she'd already fired once. "You're not alone. Please, put down the gun and go to your husband. He needs you."

"Peter." He moved closer when Charlotte slouched slightly with his name on her lips. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "

"I love you," he answered pleadingly. "Please. I'm begging you. Put down the gun. Don't leave me, baby. Don't leave."

"I really wanted to give you a baby. You would have been such a good father."

"Charlotte." Peter's voice rose.

"I wanted to name him after you. Somehow, I just know it's a boy. But we'll never survive out here. I have to protect him."

"Charlotte! Oh God, no!" He dropped to his knees as a terrified sob broke from his chest. "Please! Stay with me."

"I love you," she answered meekly.

Peter rose from the ground and lunged for his wife. He almost made it, but not before she pulled the trigger. Charlotte fell to the ground under her husband's body. He screamed in horror, unintelligible cries roaring from his chest. Jasper and Carlisle were at his side instantly, but he clung to Charlotte fiercely. In all of it, Randall's lifeless form was all but forgotten, just as it had been while he was still breathing.

I watched as Garrett held Tanya and Irina to his chest, shielding their eyes. Emmett put his arm around Rosalie's shoulder, and though her face was vacant, she didn't shove him away. Alice stood alone, off to the side and away from the fire, with her eyes trained unblinkingly at the grieving man clutching his broken spouse. Laurent hung his head and walked away without a word. Beyond the light of the fire, he quickly vanished into the darkness toward the trees.

When Jake looked up from Peter, he scanned the beach. Finding me, he ran to close the distance between us.

"Bella, are you okay?" He dropped to his knees and held my face between his hands. As he pushed my damp hair from my forehead, his dark eyes remained fixed with mine.

"I—" How did I answer that question? A woman I barely knew put a bullet through her skull one hundred feet in front of me. And yet, it wasn't the most horrific sight I'd witnessed in the past two days.

I could feel sympathy for Charlotte. I could have compassion for the hopelessness and depression she felt in considering her uncertain future through a bleak lens. She feared for an unborn child and had convinced herself that she was remanded to his island to wither away the rest of her short days. I could also despise her.

What right did she have to decide we stood no chance of rescue and returning home? The pitiable woman represented everything I didn't want to become while shoving myself through every hour of survival. I'd never been truly tested in my life, but I knew I had to be made of stronger stuff. I would fake it until I found the courage.

"I made you a promise," Jacob reminded me gently. "I'm not giving up."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Avoiding the scene behind him, I hid my eyes against his shoulder. Maybe I had become desensitized to death, but I didn't have to subject myself to the aftermath any more than necessary.

xXx

"Okay," Emmett announced in frustration, breaking the solemn silence around the fire. Carlisle had coaxed Peter away to find privacy while Jasper and Emmett tended to Charlotte and Randall's bodies. He was likely the only person who could be of any use to the widower. Now, seeing as how sleep wasn't likely to come for any of us, we found ourselves once again staring at the flames. "If no one else if going to bring it up, I'll ask. Where the hell did she get a gun?"

"It's mine," Jasper answered. He slipped his hand behind his back and pulled the pistol from his waistband. Pointing it at the ground, he pulled out the clip and released the round from the chamber. "I was assigned as the air marshal on our flight."

"So the lady waltzes up and says she's in the mood for a evening murder-suicide and you just give her your sidearm?"

"Do you always have to be so boorish?" Rose shot him an evil glare, her face firm with admonishment. "Two people just died. Or don't you care?"

Emmett had the good sense to look contrite as he shifted his gaze back to Jasper. As ill-mannered as his statement was, he only voiced the question that we were all pondering. I hadn't seen Jasper with a gun earlier in the day. Spending hours walking behind him, I knew for certain he didn't have the pistol shoved in his jeans while we were in the jungle.

Jasper didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he threw the clip at Emmett, who caught it with an arched eyebrow. "No. I lost it during the crash. Charlotte or Randall must have picked it up at some point when we were going through the wreckage."

"It's my fault," Laurent interjected sadly. "My comments upset her."

"You can't take responsibility for her," Garrett asserted. He scratched at the two day's worth of stubble on his chin and then rubbed roughly at the back of his neck. "A person doesn't decide to kill herself on a whim. Whatever was going on in her head, it had to be deeper than that. If Randall really did ask her to kill him—"

"Just stop, okay? Enough." Tanya put her head in her hands, her shoulders bunched and knees shaking. "I don't want to think about it anymore. I don't want to talk about it."

In silent agreement, the conversation ceased. It wasn't long before the group dispersed again, chasing a sleep that likely wouldn't come. But Jake and I had to at least try to rest. Dawn would come too early and we had a long trek ahead of us.

"Come on," Jake led me toward one of the small shelters, which consisted of a makeshift tarp tied between two trees at an angle to keep the rain off our backs. "This one is free. Maybe day after tomorrow I can work on making it better. At least it isn't raining for now."

"It's fine," I forced a small smile. "I don't much care where I lie down at this point."

We situated our towels and pillows and then settled in beside one another. The day had been too long and the night too horrible to spend any time worrying over our sleeping arrangements. More than ever, I appreciated Jacob's proximity.

"Bella?"

On my back, I turned my head to face Jake. He wore a solemn expression and didn't quite look at me, but stared down at the ground between us.

"What is it?"

"I was a jackass to her," he replied regretfully with a soft voice.

"Don't," I answered quickly. "Like Garrett said, you can't take responsibility for her. It will eat you alive and then what good are you to me?"

He reluctantly lifted his eyes to mine. There was no smile, but the eye contact said enough.

"Try to rest, Jake. There might be lions in the jungle tomorrow." I rolled my head back to stare up at our bright yellow ceiling.

"And tigers," he replied as he shifted to his back and put his arms behind his head.

"And bears."

xXx

_Curled up in a comfy chair—the overstuffed kind with plush cushions and a fluffy blanket draped over my lap—I looked at pictures of animals. The book had a sturdy hard cover and glossy images of amazing wildlife. My favorite was the white tiger; he stood on the edge of a brook, as if he'd bent to drink, but glanced up just in time for the photographer to snap the picture of the great cat staring directly into the lens. His fur was pristine white. In the black stripes on his forehead, I searched for patterns. If I looked at the image just right, it almost looked like a butterfly emblazoned in the contrasting colors. _

_In the background, a gentle piano melody played. I knew this song. It was my favorite and I'd beg him to play it for me. I glanced up from my book to see the boy bent over the black grand piano with his eyes closed and his fingers moving lithely over the black and white keys. When he gently swayed his head to the tempo and the light caught his hair in just the right way, his brunette strands reflected shades of red and bronze. _

_A girl sat on the floor beside the piano bench. With a thick charcoal pencil, she drew monotone scenes across stark paper. Her fingers were black with smudges, transferring the marks to her pale, pointed face when she reached up to brush a few loose strands of brown hair from her face. _

_"Which one am I looking at now?" I smiled and lifted my eyes back to the boy. _

_He tilted his face to meet my gaze with vivid green eyes. "White tiger."_

_"See, it does work on me."_

_"You're always looking at the white tiger," he replied dismissively. "He's your favorite."_

_"What number and I thinking of?" I closed my eyes and furrowed my brow, thinking as hard as possible. _

_"Seven," the girl replied immediately. _

_"No fair. You can't answer for him; that's cheating."_

_The girl shrugged her shoulders, but didn't look up from her drawing. "He was going to say twelve." _

_The boy smiled indulgently at the girl by his feet and continued to play, his fingers never losing the melody as it echoed gently off the cinderblock walls. A mural of a jungle was painted around the room. Exotic, brightly colored flowers and birds appeared vibrant against the green background. _

_"Do you know where you are?" A gentle voice in a smooth tenor spoke to me. The sound was warm and soft, sliding over me comfortingly just above the music. _

_"School," I answered in confirmation._

_"How old are you?"_

_"Five?" I wasn't certain. _

_"Do you know that boy?"_

_I smiled as I watched him play. He had such a peaceful expression when he was at the piano. Ordinarily, his face was marred with anger and frustration. He didn't like school or the teachers. He hated all the noise. The only reprieve he found to the constant din was music. Most of all, he hated how quiet I was. _

_"Yes," I replied. "He's my friend." _

_"Is he nice to you?"_

_"Yes. He plays piano for me—my favorite song. He named it 'Aucella.'"_

_"What does that mean?"_

_"Little bird. He calls me Little Bird."_

_"What do you call him?"_

_"I—" I paused, searching my memory for his name. I knew it; I had to know it. He and his sister were my very best friends. So why couldn't I think of his name?_

_"What's his name?" The voice repeated the question, though it didn't help conjure up my answer. _

_Like the sun sliding behind dense clouds, the scene began to dim. Darkness descended on me in slow increments, and the dissolving memory of my childhood evaporated completely. I was left in empty blackness, no longer warm in my chair with the glossy pictures of remarkable creatures. _

_"What happened to him?"_

_"I don't know," I answered nervously. I searched for more memories of the boy—my friend—and my school, but I couldn't retrieve the images. Like opening an empty drawer, the information just wasn't there. _

_Jarringly, I was thrust into a new scene. A woman was gripping my shoulders too hard as I struggled to escape her reach. Two men in white coats were dragging the boy away. We were in a brightly lit hallway; cinderblock walls painted a stark white looked almost green under the florescent lights. There were several doors on each wall, all the same pale gray shade with numbers stenciled on them in bold black: 007, 008, 009, 010, 011, 012. _

_"No," I exclaimed pleadingly. "Where are they taking him?"_

_The two men restrained the boy as they led him onto the elevator at the end of the hall. I wiggled and writhed against the woman holding me, but her fingers bit painfully into the soft spots under my collarbone. He yelled and screamed, kicking at the men, but they wouldn't let him go. His eye locked on mine just as the door closed between us. He was frightened. _

_The woman dragged me back to the door marked 7 and shoved me inside before quickly closing and locking the door behind me. It was dark inside. I felt around for the walls to find a switch, but I felt nothing. No walls or door. The room was empty and completely black. _

_"You can go after him," the voice instructed me. "You know how to find him."_

_"I can't," I yelled in frustration. "I can't see. I can't get out."_

_"You can. Concentrate."_

_I stopped fumbling around in the dark and remained still. With several deep breaths, I forced my mind to clear. Slowly, I sensed everything physical slip away from the dark space. In its place, the pliable skin of my void inflated to expand broadly. I waited patiently, concentrating on anything that might give me direction. _

_And then I felt it: the powerful energy that I recognized encroached on me with such gravity that I scarcely thought I'd survive the collision. My instinct at first was to recoil, and then to struggle against its intrusion, but I resisted the urge. Instead, I allowed the energy to envelop me. Bathed in an electric sensation of pure power, I sensed the seductive lure coil around me and coax me to its purpose. _

_"I'm scared," I all but whispered as I surrendered to the will of the foreign presence. _

_"You're safe. Open your eyes."_

Blinking furiously, I was ensconced in deep blackness. I stumbled forward, my breath sputtering as I became aware of my surroundings. Under my feat, leaves crunched and mud squished around the edges of my shoes. I heard the serenade of nocturnal creatures and felt the humid warmth of the air sink into my pores. My mind begged to scream, but my vocal chords constricted around the cry before it was even a whimper.

Behind me, something cracked and crunched. My pulse raced and my skin prickled with fear. Very slowly, I turned to face the source of the sound. In a thin shaft of moonlight cast down through the thick jungle canopy, he stood tall and intimidating before me.

"Bella."

* * *

**End notes:** Before you ask, no. The numbers 007 - 012 have nothing to do with James Bond. :-)


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

* * *

**Chapter 10**

**Day 2 - Night**

**14 Survivors**

He stood like an apparition from a dream I couldn't recall, shrouded in darkness with only the weakest illumination from the moon shining down to spotlight his appearance. He was ethereal, commanding the heavens to highlight him in just this way for just this purpose.

That was, of course, preposterous. But so was the reality that the last conscious memory I had was laying on the beach under the yellow tarp that served as my shelter. By whatever means or unnatural force I'd arrived in this spot—surrounded by the thick blackness and damp heat of the jungle at night—he had conjured me here through a vivid and perplexing dream. It was a dream, wasn't it?

Standing only two feet apart and staring into the hooded eyes of a man—lean and firm in nondescript jeans and a T-shirt, towering over me by nearly a foot—I quickly searched my recollection for the specific circumstances of the dream or what had transpired to bring me here. I caught brief glimpses, but the visuals and associated information were fading too quickly for me to compile and analyze them.

The energy. That was familiar, distinct, and recognizable. I may not have been breathing or even blinking, but I felt the power he exuded and charged air surrounding me. If I could put it into words, I'd have to liken it to what one might imagine a stable fusion reaction feels like at close range. Not like walking on the surface of the sun, but rather dwelling inside the explosive core of plasma interwoven with magnetic fields. The overwhelming sensation was heat, electricity, and considerable gravity pulling me closer as it burned.

He'd spoken. I was certain, behind his full lips perfectly situated over a strong jaw, he'd uttered at least a word when I turned to meet the sight of him. For all the information was I lacking, it seemed I couldn't even muster up an accurate account of the last several seconds. My mind was too consumed with questions and shock.

I shivered. My hands were cool and clammy despite the warmth of the jungle trapped under the canopy. Still not aware of actually taking in a breath, I felt my pulse racing. My mouth was dry, though I couldn't hope to utter a word past the paralysis of my rational mind.

I wasn't shocked. I was going into shock.

Perhaps seeing the change play out across my face, the man didn't wait for my permission before he pulled me into his arms and laced the fingers of one hand into my hair to cradle the back of my head. The other arm wound tightly around my back, capturing me against the warmth and solid muscles of his chest.

At first, I went rigid with anxiety. The instinct, however, was fleeting. The moment the bare skin of his fingers brushed the nape of my neck, I was at ease and gentled in a way I don't think a baby has ever been so serene in it's parents' arms. I was overcome with a sense of familiarity and trust. Of comfort and safety. And if I wasn't completely consumed in that impression, I might have stopped for even a fraction of a second to consider that, too, was preposterous. Without my explicit order to do so my hands slid around his back and gripped fistfuls of his shirt. He felt like a steady buoy unfazed and still in the face of a raging tide. I clung to him without a great understanding of why.

"They cut your wings, Little Bird, but I've got you. You're safe." His voice was so soft and tender, so disarming and smooth, that I nearly dismissed the actual words without thought.

_"Little Bird. He calls me Little Bird."_ I recalled the name and my fond reaction to it. Likewise, an image of a young boy with oddly luminous hair sitting at a piano skittered through my mind. At the revelation, I pulled back to look up at him, putting a few steps between us. He regarded me warily, as if I might scream at any moment. Maybe the fear was warranted, and yet I couldn't seem to muster up a reaction of panic or alarm when looking up at the strikingly handsome features of such a beautiful man: strong jaw, high cheekbones, and perfectly full lips. But his eyes, they were too shadowed in the darkness to make out the color.

"Who are you?" I asked curiously. My voice was barely a whisper, as though if I spoke too loudly I might jar myself from the waking dream. "How did I get here? How do you know me? Where—"

My litany of questions was cut off as an overwhelming pain flared behind my eyes and spread out through my skull. Sharp, stinging pain and an unbearably loud ringing bombarded me with such staggering force that I clutched my hands around the side of my head and fell to my knees.

"Stop!" I screamed, begged, and wished desperately. To whom I made the demand, I didn't know, but it had to cease. And so immediately, it did. I gasped for air reflexively, but the sensation was abruptly soothed and removed completely without any lingering effects.

When I opened my eyes to look up at where he'd been standing, he was gone. Like my fleeting dreams or wisp of a ghost, he'd disappeared. The panic that sprung up inside me was instantaneous as I scanned the dark vicinity and found myself utterly alone. More than that, the removal of his presence was painful in a new and frightening way.

"No! Come back," I demanded into the darkness. I didn't finally meet him—undoubtedly the strange intruder of my dreams and silent spy of my days—only to have him escape without answering my questions.

I heard his soft footfalls crunch on the leafy floor before I saw him tentatively emerge into the limited light cast down through the canopy. He looked…shaken. And now, a little dirty. When I stood and scanned him more thoroughly, he was brushing dirt and leaves from his shirt. His expression was one of thinly veiled amusement. He almost looked impressed.

"Don't go," I ordered pleadingly. "I…" I paused and drew out the sound. Already, the pain seemed to have conditioned me to bite back my questions. "Did you do that?"

"This would be so much easier if you'd let me in," he replied apologetically. "I could show you all of it—help you understand. But it seems you've progressed quite dramatically." He said the last with a crooked smile as he ruffled one hand through his hair and let a few bits of leaves fall to the ground.

"I don't know what happened," I answered in bewilderment. "There was just this terrible pain in my head and then you were gone."

"Not by choice," he smirked. "I assure you." His shadowed eyes scanned my face as he titled his head slightly to the side. "You have no idea what you're capable of, do you?"

I stared at him blankly, not even knowing enough as to find a place to begin to understand his question. He took a breath and nodded, holding out his hand for mine. I hesitated. Without any logical explanation as to how I found myself in the jungle—inexplicably captured from my shelter on the beach—I wasn't keen on the idea of moving again.

He reached forward and took my hand deliberately. As he did, an electric sensation erupted under my skin and spread through my arm, igniting every nerve and rushing my pulse. He took a step closer, closing the distance between us until his clean scent and radiating warmth consumed my senses, and the ever-present awareness of his strange energy encompassed me.

Abruptly, I felt him tense. His head snapped to the side, staring intently into the darkness. "We should go," he stated quietly.

"What? Go where?" I took a step back, but he wouldn't release my hand. Instead, his grip tightened. "I don't—"

"Let her go." A familiar voice growled from the darkness with deadly malice. Stepping into the light, Jacob appeared from the direction my curious acquaintance had been staring, anticipating. Behind Jake, Jasper walked in close step. His sidearm was visible, tucked into the waistband of the front of his jeans. It was still unloaded, right?

Subtly, my midnight companion positioned himself between the approaching men and me.

"Jake," I called out in surprise. "What are—"

"Come over here, Bella." Jake held out his hand, ordering me to his side with a gruff command. The hand that held mine clutched me tighter yet again. "Bella," he demanded impatiently when I didn't move. I wasn't sure I wanted to move.

"I mean her no harm," the man beside me spoke. He didn't look at Jake, but rather regarded Jasper evenly. "You needn't be concerned."

"She is my concern," Jake snapped back roughly. He stepped forward, coming to stand just a foot from us. The two men were nearly eye-level with one another, though my curious friend was a hair taller and just as leanly muscular as Jacob.

"Bella," Jasper interjected as Jake stared down the man who refused to release my hand, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I answered automatically. I really needed to come up with an explanation and do so quickly. I glanced up at the man and then back to Jasper with a false sense of confidence. "I heard someone calling out," I lied. "You know, I was up umm…going to the bathroom." That was kind of plausible, right? "I heard someone calling out and then I found—"

"Edward," he finished quickly before I had to struggle for a name.

"He was on the plane," I offered in defense. Even to my ears, it sounded like an outright fabrication, but it was more believable than not. After all, it was utterly impossible that Edward had been on this island alone. I, however, had already come to the conclusion to the contrary.

Jake glanced at me and then to Edward's hand joined with mine. His eyes narrowed; obviously not pleased with the situation he'd stumbled upon. After all, he insisted that we sleep near one another to avoid just such a mysterious disappearance.

"I woke up in the jungle two days ago and have been searching for survivors since then," Edward improvised. His tone sound far more convincing than mine. "Are there more of you?"

"Yeah," Jake remarked sharply, "a lot more."

"We've settled on the beach," Jasper clarified. He composed himself in the same cool calmness that I had come to expect, regarding Edward politely. "Were you in the tail section?"

I tensed, understanding it was a trick questioned meant to expose our subterfuge. According the Alice, the tail section had broken off over the ocean long before we hit land. I opened my mouth, but Edward cut me off quickly.

"No," he answered dismissively, "business class. I was the only one left alive after the initial impact. The cockpit—"

"Yeah, we've seen it. You look awfully healthy, considering all the corpses we found in there."

"So do you," I snapped at Jake's snarky retort. "How many bodies did you and Emmett drag back into the cabin?" Jake's sneer receded and he shifted his sympathetic eyes to me in a silent show of apology. The fact that any of us survived was an astronomically slim probability.

"We have a doctor back at our camp," Jasper spoke up. "We have water and food to share. You're welcome to join us."

I bit back my smile of victory. Edward would be compelled to say yes, and therefore at my mercy to sit down and answer my questions. If I were being truly honest, it wasn't just curiosity that kept my hand in his. Oddly, I just didn't want him to leave.

And so, through the dark and muggy jungle, the four of us silently trudged back to the beach. All the while, Edward didn't release my hand. Though I could practically feel the irritation spilling off of Jake, I stayed by Edward's side, almost afraid he'd vanish if I took my eyes off of him.

I still intended to venture toward the tallest peak with Jasper and Jake in the morning to try the radio again, but tonight I wouldn't sleep another minute.

* * *

**End Notes:** So, Edward joins them on the beach. This should make for interesting sleeping arrangements. Yes, we're getting closer to the naughty business. I promise it won't stay so PG. We're going to earn that M rating eventually.


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

**A/N:** The answers are coming, slowly but surely.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Amongst all of the uncertainty that tied my mind tangled in sloppy knots, I was certain of only a few perplexing truths. First, Edward was the source of my peculiar experiences since the dream last night. I couldn't begin to guess at what impossible power he held over me, but the sense of familiarity I experienced in his presence told me, without a doubt, that he was the source of the strange energy that compelled and seduced me. He had led me, and thereby Jasper and Jake, to the cockpit and the transceiver. Tonight's dream, if it could truly be called that at all, was again dominated by his presence. Also concerning was the unavoidable knowledge that Edward had been watching me—at the beach, while trekking the jungle this afternoon, and while sleeping.

I struggled to piece back together the series of events that had played out in my sleep and had drawn me into the jungle. How he'd managed that was perhaps the most terrifying and intriguing mystery. I remembered the name Little Bird and responded fondly to it. I recalled a jungle-painted room with white tigers, colorful birds, and a bronze-haired boy playing a soothing melody at a piano that was comically large for his size.

A silly notion of that scene, where in the midday sun Edward and I sat among the brush in this jungle while he played a gorgeous grand piano, made me smirk and my shoulders shook just once on a silent laugh. Still holding my hand, Edward felt the movement and turned his head slightly to peer down at me out of the corner of his eye. Knowing that he was looking at me, I couldn't stop myself from returning his sideways glance. A tiny shudder ran through my body at the crooked grin pasted on his lips. Edward tightened his hand around mine, letting his eyes linger on me until I was forced to rip away my gaze and go back to biting my lip and trying to watch for trip hazards in my path.

When my feet finally hit the sand of our beach and I saw the campfire blazing like a steadfast beacon, I was overcome with a sense of dread. I'd maneuvered to get Edward here, but now I was nervous about how to proceed. Not everything literature's Alice had found through that rabbit hole was magnificent and wondrous. In fact, much of her adventures in Wonderland and through the looking glass were frighteningly hostile and twisted. And in the end, she was left with greater doubt and confusion for her explorations into the worlds where she neither belonged nor was welcome.

I swear, I thought in frustration, if I wake up in a high-back cushioned chair with a white cat at my feet and a black cat purring in my lap, I'm going to commit myself to the padded rooms and straight jackets.

Alice was sitting in an airline chair positioned around the edge of the fire, her knees curled up to her chest and her chin resting on her folded forearms. For another night, it seemed she was unable to find a reprieve from her insomnia. Her small figure huddled and staring at the flames was, however, reassuring. She was there, just like I expected her to be, and the image was reassuring for its consistency.

We paused a few yards away when Jasper stopped and slid another appraising glance over Edward and I. "We'll have to figure out the shelter and rationing situation in the morning when the others are awake," he stated softly. The beach was draped in darkness, and the only sounds were those of the lapping waves and the crackle of the fire. "It should be dawn in three hours or so."

"We should get some sleep, Bella." Jake possessively hung his arm over my shoulder, pulling me toward him from Edward's side. "Got a long day ahead of us tomorrow," he reminded me." Though he carefully composed his features in a casually friendly expression, I didn't miss the fact that his eyes were on Edward as he spoke.

"Actually," I shrugged out of his hold with a forced smile, "I'm not tired. I think I'm going to stay up for a bit."

"I'll wait up with you," he quickly offered.

"No." My answer was too emphatic, garnering a suspicious reaction from Jake. "I should give Edward the lay of the land," I clarified furtively. "Get him something to eat and drink."

I chanced a look at him, hoping I wasn't asking too much that he continue our conspiratorial charade. Maybe he really was hungry. Edward smiled politely, no trace of deception on his relaxed features. "I'd appreciate that," he answered kindly. "Thank you."

"I'm sure he can manage on his own," Jake pressed with a touch of irritation. "I'm not taking my eyes off you if you're not coming to bed."

I did not appreciate the insinuation of those words, but that was a discussion for another time. I had more important bones to pick, and they weren't with Jacob Black. In desperation, I sunk to a new low.

"I just need some time alone, okay?" I put on my most weary mask as I looked up at Jake, begging that he buy it. "With everything that happened tonight…" I let the meaning of those words sink in until I saw Jake's expression soften to compassion. What a horrible person I was becoming. "I just don't think I can close my eyes. I just want some quiet to myself."

It was only a few hours ago that I witnessed a woman kill herself. And here I was, using her tragedy as an excuse to pick apart Edward's mystery.

"Go on and get some rest," Jasper interjected with a nod to Jacob. I held back my sigh of relief as he eyed me with even reassurance. "I'm going tend to the fire for a bit and gather supplies for tomorrow."

"Yeah," Jake finally relented. "Whatever you need, Bella. But come wake me up if…" he shrugged, letting the words die out.

"I will," I assured him. I wouldn't need anything, but I appreciated that he was just concerned for me. After all, if it hadn't been Edward waiting for me in the jungle, I would probably be grateful that he and Jasper had come searching for me so quickly. By disappearing in the middle of the night, I'd fulfilled Jacob's prophecy. "I'll see you in the morning." Still, there were no cannibals.

Jake turned and left us as Jasper went in the opposite direction. That left Edward and I awkwardly standing in the dark. At least he was quick on the up-take and knew to just keep his mouth shut. On top of explaining we had already experienced a post-disaster tragedy, I'd also have to bring him up to speed on island politics.

"Bella?" Edward's gently curious voice snapped me out of my silent contemplation.

I'd been staring off toward the fire; my eyes were fixated on Alice's black silhouette against the bright oranges and yellows and the healthy flames. Shyly, I raised my eyes to meet his, though he, too, seemed to be watching Alice watch the fire.

"Right," I swallowed and concentrated on the task at hand. "You're probably hungry. We've—"

I'd turned toward where we'd started storing our food in the beverage cart buried in the sand to keep it cool, but Edward gently took my hand in his and pulled my attention back, halting my words.

"If you need the distraction, I'm happy to indulge you. However, I think it's better that we find somewhere to talk."

He saw through me so easily, which should have sent warning bells ringing through my ears. Instead, I was surprisingly happy with his direct and honest approach. Edward smiled pleasingly when I nodded my agreement and closed my hand around his. Never, until meeting Jacob, had I allowed a complete stranger to touch me in such a familiar way. Never had I initiated and sought out such contact with someone so unfamiliar. And yet, Edward felt precisely the opposite of foreign. Something about the perceptible energy he exuded and the warmth of his presence eased me.

Quickly scanning the beach and shooting a glance toward the shelter I shared with Jake, I escorted us down the shore toward the bend hidden by the outcropping of rocks. The moon lit our path well enough, the silvery light casting a blue-black glow over the beach and shimmering with dazzling clarity on the breaking waves.

After several yards, I felt secure enough that no one would stumble upon us and interrupt our conversation. I paused, somewhat unsure of myself, and then released Edward's hand to sit in the sand facing the water. He lowered himself next to me, drawing his legs up and leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. I stretched my legs in front of my and leaned back on my hands, probably putting forth too much effort to appear relaxed when I was anything but.

"Occam's razor," Edward stated softly. So quietly, in fact, that I hardly absorbed the gentle tenor of his voice. If my ears nearly missed it, my nervous system certainly did not. His tone slid over me like a cashmere blanket. He didn't look at me, but stared out over the water. If it was his subtle way of trying to put me at ease, it was working.

"What of it?" I was familiar with the principle of parsimony—a popular logical philosophy on approaching scientific hypotheses.

"All things being equal, the simplest answer tends to be the right one," he replied matter-of-factly.

I smiled, rolling my eyes even though neither of us looked at each other. We were studiously observing the tide rush in and retreat again. "That's Jodi Foster's version. I admit she had to dumb it down for Matthew McConaughey, but it isn't precisely accurate."

That was putting it generously. Contact's oversimplification of the concept was woefully inadequate and just factually incorrect. "Pluralitas non est ponenda sine necessitate," I muttered to myself.

Without pause, Edward translated my Latin recitation of the accepted original statement of the razor: "Entities should not be multiplied unnecessarily."

"I get the academic interpretation, but I still think the phrase has been mangled and misused to mean something for which it was never intended." I sighed when I heard the words that had tumbled mindlessly from my lips. I sounded like I was giving a dissertation. Academic reflexes often betrayed me, placing me firmly in awkward nerd territory.

"So you're a purist," Edward remarked with a false tone of formality. A small smile curved one side of my lips at his attempt to respond jokingly. "I prefer modern interpretations. Jodi Foster not withstanding, I hold with the idea that when assessing an unknown, it is the wisest course of action to side with the simplest conclusion."

I turned slightly to appraise his strong profile, speculating on this conversation. Whether purposefully or not, Edward allowed me to study him without chancing a look in my direction.

"Does this somehow apply to our current situation," I asked with mock accusation, "or are you just trying to distract me?"

"You have questions," he stated simply. "And I'm suggesting that you consider the simplest answers may be the right ones."

"That is incredibly unhelpful." Edward's crooked grin returned, and though it would have been beneficial to my blood pressure to avert my gaze from that dazzling expression, my eyes refused to be deprived. "But if it was your intention to loosen me up with small talk, then you've succeeded."

"Forgive me," he played unconvincingly coy, "but I've been anticipating this conversation for quite some time. Waiting for you to catch up is frustratingly tormenting."

"About that," I sat forward and crossed my legs, reinvigorated in my curiosity.

"Bella," Edward stopped me dead with a suddenly serious tone and tense expression, "I promise that I won't lie to you, but the answers you need—some of them will be complicated. Perhaps you should start—"

"With something simple?" The word was wearing out its welcome and completely misplaced in this conversation. Nothing about Edward or the oddities he represented were simple.

"Essentially," he nodded tightly.

"How did I get there?" I cocked my head to the side and glanced back at the tree line, indicating our meeting in the jungle.

"You walked," he replied flatly. I didn't bother to contain my exasperation when I sighed in annoyance and rolled my petulant eyes at his poor explanation. "Like I said," he added pleadingly, "some answers will be complicated."

I narrowed my challenging gaze at Edward, silently willing him to do better than that.

"I can handle complicated," I snapped with more agitation than I intended.

"It is completely unfair that I have to thrust all of this on you so quickly, trying to explain is insufficient, I know." Edward screwed his eyes shut for a moment and ran his hand roughly through his tussled hair. "But this seems to be the only way."

"Edward," he looked at me in defeat, "your preemptive apologies and vague warnings are not helping. Please, just…" Just what? I hadn't actually asked a question. He probably had no better idea where to start than I did. I snapped my eyes back to the water and huffed out a breath.

Simple.

I had to start simple. Through the drawn out silence between us, I mentally retraced my confusion until I found a question that required no prerequisite information or preamble.

Determined, I settled my fortified gaze on Edward, who'd been watching me intently for my next words. "How do you know me?"

A fond expression flickered across his face. His lips didn't quite smile; there was a sad sense of longing behind his eyes. In the faint moonlight, I thought they looked a little green, like deep jade shrouded in shadow. I could only imagine their beauty in the sunlight. Of course they were green. As if that was still up for debate. Edward had undoubtedly been the focus of last night's startling dream.

"The simplest answer," he cracked a small smile, but seemed to bite it back, "is to say that we grew up together. More specifically, we went to school together."

"Impossible," I challenged. "I'd have remembered you." I'd have bashfully worshipped him from across the playground and snuck surreptitious glances in the halls. I quickly searched my memory to place him in an elementary school class or middle school club, but I came up empty. Even I, with all of my adolescent awkwardness, could not have been so oblivious of the opposite sex as to have missed anyone who would grow up to be as remarkably handsome as Edward. Not to mention, I would have remembered the strange energetic sensation between us—his energy. "You're saying you're from Phoenix?"

Edward took a breath and flicked his eyes away, his face morphing to one of frustrated disappointment. The look reminded me a professor when I came to the wrong conclusion during a lab example. When he fixed his attention on me again, the intensity of his gaze unnerved me.

"No, Bella. You've never lived in Phoenix."

"Uh…" I furrowed my brow, incredulous. "Yes I did. From the time I was three until my junior year of high school."

"Sixteen," he replied. I wasn't sure if he was clarifying or agreeing with me.

"I moved back to Washington to live with my dad." My statement only seemed to further agitate Edward. "What?"

"From the age of three," he repeated, "until three days before your sixteenth birthday, you and forty-seven others were part of a program called the Volturi Project." Edward paused, searching my eyes. "We both were."


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

**A/N:** Lots of secrets revealed in this chapter. I hope you enjoy. Thanks for the reviews and to everyone who has been following along. In a way, this is sort of like the original restaurant and meadow scenes all in one.

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**Chapter 12**

For a long while, I stared into Edward's shadowed eyes. Neither of us had said a word since he'd seen fit to make such an absurd announcement. Whatever a practical or normal response to such a statement might have been, I couldn't seem to react at all, other than to regard him blankly.

If he were a dream or fanciful delusion, he was by far the most complicated and lovely illusion I'd ever gifted myself. I hardly believed I had the imagination required to conjure up such a specimen as Edward. But if he were a figment of my imagination, why was I possessed to make him so utterly confusing?

For that matter, Jake and Jasper would also have to be under the same peculiar spell, and that just seemed unlikely. Yes, that was the tidbit that would dislodge the hypothesis of my insanity. As they say, if you're crazy, you aren't supposed to know it. Studying my own senility would have to mean I wasn't totally nuts, right?

Leonardo DiCaprio could go ahead and show up any minute to give me a kick. Dunk me in the ocean until I woke from my dream within a dream. Or if I poked my finger into the glassy surface of the tide, would I fall straight through to the other side? Was I already trapped on the alternate plane of the looking glass? If I crossed over, would the world resume its right-side-up orientation where everything made sense and beautiful men didn't stalk me with such infuriatingly bizarre notions?

"Bella?"

"Hmm?" Though I was still facing him, intently studying his shrouded eyes, I barely acknowledged Edward's voice. If anything, he was distracting me from my inner monologue.

"Where'd you go?"

"Not sure." That I'd zoned out and retreated in on myself was obvious, no doubt.

"Will you tell me what you're thinking?"

I blinked out of my trance, focusing on his softened expression and coaxing voice. Edward's head was dipped and tilted to one side, like a curious animal in a show of invitation.

"I know who I was when I woke up this morning, but I think I must have changed several times since then," I muttered, letting my eyes fall to the slow smile spreading across Edward's lips. "I don't want to go among mad people," I quoted playfully.

"You can't help that," Edward answered without hesitation. His smile widened around his words, reaching his eyes and further disarming me. "We're all mad. I'm mad. You're mad."

"How do you know I'm mad?" I raised one eyebrow, encouraging the game.

"You must be," he replied casually, "or you wouldn't have come here."

One short laugh pushed its way past my lips and my bemused mind. "I must have read Alice's Adventures in Wonderland forty-seven times."

"Not forty-six?"

"Nope." I shook my head confidently, lifting my chin with pride.

"And forty-eight would have been superfluous."

"Exactly. Forty-seven times is precisely the right number of times to truly appreciate the material and commit it to memory."

Edward slid his hand into mine, clasping his fingers around my trembling digits. He was warm, and the electric sensation emitted every time we touched soothed me as much as it was startling. "Are you ready?" he asked softly.

I sighed, dropping my eyes to our joined hands. "I don't know that I can believe what you're telling me. I mean, I really don't believe it. And yet," I paused, briefly searching his eyes, "I also don't believe you'd lie." I'd told him I could handle complicated. I thought I had mentally prepared myself for whatever unfathomable truths Edward presented. I was wrong. I was a fool for even entertaining the thought that Edward was anything but completely off his rocker.

"If," Edward began, "one was to have lived one life and remembered another, what would be the cause for the disparity?"

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?" I shot back. My question was just as impossibly silly. Casting characters in my story, Edward was certainly the Mad Hatter. Not the White Rabbit. The plane had brought me here.

"Carroll's riddle had no answer. Mine does," he argued while his eyes narrowed in challenge. Oh, he really wanted an answer?

"Actually, you're wrong. It didn't have an answer when he wrote it, but his audience was so adamant that he provide one, he eventually penned a solution."

"His afterthought was wholly unsatisfying."

"Maybe. But case closed and puzzle solved."

"Bella." Edward had the nerve to sound impatient and even frustrated with me.

"No way," I snapped. "You don't get to chastise me for my avoidance tactics. Have you stopped to consider how infuriatingly impossible all of this is? Yesterday my plane fell out of the sky. I saw more dead bodies in the ten seconds it took me to scan the beach than most people will see in their entire lives. I've had dreams and…these feelings…I saw a woman put a bullet through her head," I shouted as I pointed toward our camp. "I've seen things, in my mind…experienced things that I can't begin to explain. But what you're insisting—what I know isn't true and yet I'm afraid I already believe you—it's too much."

"I know it is," Edward sighed in resignation, "I know how cruel it is that you should have to learn the truth this way. But, Bella, you're not alone." Edward fixated on my eyes, staring at me so intensely. "I've thought of little else but this moment and this conversation for years. I've used every resource at my disposal to find you. I have, in fact, considered a multitude of outcomes to finally seeing you again. You're strong, Bella. So much stronger than you realize."

"Then why don't I feel it?" I mumbled to myself.

Edward's eyes lit up. As much as a man can, he looked damn near giddy, which startled me when he jumped to his feet and pulled me with him.

"What?" I tugged my hand free of his, planting my feet in defiance. He'd managed to pluck at my temper.

"A demonstration," he smirked.

"Demonstration of what, exactly?" I crossed my arms, bracing myself for another blow to my delicate handle on reality.

"I can't tell you," he shook his head, amused. "You'll just have to see for yourself." He took a step closer as I took a step back. "One thing: keep your eyes open."

"Okay…"

"I mean it," he replied quickly. "No matter what. You have to keep your eyes open and look directly at me."

I swallowed hard as I felt my nerves flutter to life again with anxiety. "What are you going to do?"

"Not me," he answered ominously. "You."

Before I had the opportunity to protest, Edward took my face tenderly between both of his hands, tilting his head down toward me. I sucked in a short breath to sustain my heart as it stopped beating and my entire body went rigid. Edward's lips hovered just centimeters from mine, his warm breath tickling my flesh in not an unpleasant way.

"I'm sorry for this," he whispered so quietly it was barely a sound at all. And then his lips sealed over mine. A hot, thrilling rush of excitement and pure energy burst through every vein. My body was alive with electricity. My lips tingled. My muscles ached to touch him. My fingers twitched to tangle in his hair.

And there was pain.

Sharp.

Shooting.

Piercing hurt screamed through my skull and my eyes went wide as Edward didn't move other than to grip me tighter. I couldn't close my eyes if I wanted to; they were frozen open in shock. The agony ripped through my brain, building impossibly more ferocious until I thought no human being could endure such torment a second longer.

If I'd blinked, I would have missed it. Surely. Instead, I felt and saw Edward propelled a dozen yards away, flat on his back.

Again, I stood stunned and fully astonished. Edward appeared equally discomfited by the experience for a moment before he composed himself and stood, dusting off sand from his clothes. Raking one hand through his hair, he studied me for a reaction. By the time he'd taken the necessary steps to close the distance between us, I was shaking with so many competing emotions that I simply erupted.

"What the hell was that?" I yelled unnecessarily loud, considering we stood only a foot apart. I was risking calling attention to our secret meeting. In the moment, however, I didn't care. "What did you do? Why did you do…that?" I waved my hand between us, ineffectually alluding to the kiss. Not that I was complaining about that part. Actually, that part was pretty nice. Right up to the part where I was about to fold in on myself in agony.

"I'm sorry—"

"No! Stop apologizing and explain yourself," I snarled.

"Your dreams," he offered tentatively. "Since coming to the island. You remember them, right?"

"Yes, of course. That was you, right? I don't have any clue how or…but that was you."

"Putting aside everything that should be impossible, tell me what you experienced in your dreams."

"I—" Huh. Exactly how did I attempt to explain? I had to get some space from Edward. He was suffocating me with his nearness. He had the strange ability to keep me constantly flustered and nervous. I turned away from him, pacing in meaningless patters and drawing in the sand with the toe of my shoe.

"The first time, I was in this sort of blank space. Not a room, but just nowhere. Except, I wasn't afraid. It was comfortable and felt somehow familiar. Like it was my space. For lack of a better term, it was a void. But then I felt something." I turned back to glance at Edward. "You," I accused. "It felt like this immense energy trying to overwhelm me from the outside. You spoke to me, asking me to let you in, but I pushed back. I tried to keep you on the outside of the barrier. It hurt, expending the energy to block you out. Then, somehow, it was as though you'd managed to poke holes in my defenses. I heard your voice. I saw flashes of images and heard so much noise, but I couldn't make sense of any of it. And then it was over. I pushed you back out again."

"And tonight," he prodded. "Before you came to me."

"The jungle room," I nodded in confirmation. "It was a dream."

"But it didn't hurt? You felt no pain?"

"No." I furrowed my brow as I appraised him. Edward kept his expression neutral as he watched me continue meandering about. "I heard your voice. You asked me about the boy at the piano. You asked if I knew his name and what happened to him." The memory of watching him taken away—forcibly dragged away while I fought and begged—made me wince. "They took him. I wanted to go after him, but I was trapped and didn't know how to get out."

"But you did," he reminded me.

"It was your voice telling me to concentrate and that I could find my way free. Then…well, then I was out there," I looked toward the tree line.

"Do you know his name?" Edward asked me in a voice just above a whisper.

I paused. If I admitted the boy was Edward, out loud, would that mean I had to admit there was some truth to his assertion that the life I remembered may be false?

"Say it, Bella."

"Edward."

"But it was just a dream," I argued quickly. "It was just something I made up. That's what dreams are." Even I didn't believe my assertion. After all, if it were just my dream, Edward wouldn't have been privy to the details.

"It was a memory," he countered. "A memory I gave you. Please believe me that I never intended to cause you pain, but I hoped that if I could just show you, you might believe me. Consciously, your reflex is to repel any intrusion, but subconsciously," Edward put himself in my line of sight, demanding that I look at him, "you recognize me. You remember. There was no pain because you let me in."

"Let you into what?" I demanded. "Spit it out!"

"Your mind," he stated succinctly.

"Like telepathy?" I asked lamely, disbelieving.

"Yes," he nodded with just a hint of a smile. "But more than that."

I took a deep breath, willing my nerves to settle and fortifying myself. I could handle complicated. As Edward had said, why not approach this as just another lab example?

"Okay." I straightened my spine and met his eyes with determination. "Let's say, in purely hypothetical terms, that what you propose were possible. How?"

Playing along, Edward took a seat in the sand and encouraged me to do the same. I sat, leveling my serious face with his attempt to not look excited.

"A radio," he began. "For communication, it requires both a transmitter and a receiver."

"Go on."

"So if the human mind is like a transmitter, emitting thoughts like radio waves, then a telepathic would be a receiver of those waves."

"I follow you," I nodded. Easy enough. Hypothetically.

"Now in this scenario, the communication is only one way. The mind transmits and the telepathic receives. What if the communication was two-way?"

"The transmitter would have to be capable of receiving the same 'radio waves,'" I answered. "The non-telepathic person would have to possess the ability to read a telepathic's thoughts in return."

"And perhaps he can," Edward answered. "Perhaps the transmitter does possess the ability to receive, but he or she is not aware that the frequency is open, that the channel exists for such communication."

"You're speaking about latent ability. The theory that humans only utilize a small portion of their brains and therefore already possess the ability for telepathy, telekinesis, psychic premonitions, empathic—"

Edward smirked as I continued to prattle on. "Yes. Hypothetically," he clarified mockingly.

"But because the non-telepathic person is unaware of the transmission taking place, he or she is unaware of also receiving."

"Correct."

"Basically hypnotic suggestion. Or at least subconscious manipulation." I prickled at the implication of this scenario. "Mind control," I accused disapprovingly.

"Unfortunately," Edward sighed. "Sometimes that is correct."

"That's how you got me into the jungle. You planted the suggestion in my mind to manipulate me?"

"No," Edward answered quickly. "I didn't plant the suggestion. I provided you with a memory. I admit that I manipulated your emotions to get the desired reaction by selecting that particular memory, but you chose to chase the boy. You chose to find me. I simply provided you with the guidance to arrive at the correct destination."

A little late on the humiliating realization, I buried my face in my hands and groaned in embarrassment. "You can read my mind? Are you doing it now?"

"No," he chuckled. I swear I almost smacked him for finding anything funny about my mortification. "I can tell you that Jasper is concerned about James and Victoria. They still haven't returned. I can tell you that Emmett is having a very vivid dream about Rosalie serving him pizza and beer while watching football. The others are having similarly typical dreams." He bristled, scowling as he glanced over my shoulder toward the camp on the other side of the beach. "I'll spare you Jacob's thoughts."

Oh really?

Edward cupped my cheek, lifting my face out of my hands. "But I can't hear a word of what's going on in your head. Nothing frustrates me more than how quiet you are, Little Bird."

"What's wrong with me?" Because how else could I put it? Edward had kissed me and I'd shot him a dozen yards across the beach. We still hadn't gotten to the part where he explained what the hell that was.

"Nothing," he answered adamantly. In fact, his face turned serious with the gruff inflection of his voice. "There has never been anything wrong with you. Not one goddamn thing."

"Then why am I different?" I was tired dancing around the conversation in hypothetical terms. Whether I was prepared to accept it all as fact, I just needed the answers without any further pretense.

Edward pulled his hand back from my cheek and I almost whimpered from the loss of contact. Instead, he pulled my hands into his, running his thumbs softly over my skin. "Radio waves," he began leadingly. I nodded. "There are a number of mechanisms that can disrupt their transmission. Deliberate jamming or blocking of the frequency, barriers through which the waves cannot pass, range, line of sight—though that example really isn't relevant in this situation—and so on. There is also the occurrence of electromagnetic compatibility."

"Like an EMP?" An electromagnetic pulse is capable of disrupting anything electronic, rendering it useless. It is widely believed that aside from nuclear and biological weapons, an EMP is the most serious threat to a nation's stability. Worse, there is absolutely nothing you can do to prevent a widespread attack. Planes fall out of the sky, the power grid goes down, all communication ceases, and nothing electronic works. Total chaos and literal plunge into the dark ages.

"Similar, but not quite. In this example," I furrowed my brow and Edward revised. "With you, it is a stable and sustained electromagnetic field. Of sorts," he qualified. "You emit a natural defense against psychic intrusion. You can, however, manipulate and control that field. In essence, using it to envelope an outside entity, thereby absorbing his or her ability."

"So my dream…?"

"My attempts to forcibly intrude caused you pain," he admitted. "And I'm truly sorry for that. The result," he smiled ruefully, "seems to manifest itself as a powerful physical reaction."

"Like propelling you across the beach?" I couldn't help but smile. Okay, maybe that part was kind of cool.

"Like sending me flying through the air and damn near giving me a concussion," he replied.

This time, he didn't bother trying to hide his pride or amusement. Edward was undoubtedly impressed. I bit my lip, hiding my stupid smile and trying not to laugh.

"When you allowed me in, which I can only assume is because you recognized me and didn't feel threatened, you allowed for two-way communication. I could hear and speak to you and vise versa. You allowed me to share memories, images, and even the sounds and emotions associated with those scenes."

"It was so vivid," I answered in agreement. "I usually don't remember my dreams, and even then they aren't as full or engrossing. It was—"

"I know," he smiled encouragingly. "When we were kids, I'd spend hours on end trying to get inside your head. You'd think of a number or look at a picture and quiz me endlessly, but it never worked. Back then no one had any idea what to make of you. You've always just possessed this ability without any effort. There was no pain, I can only guess, because I wasn't even close to getting through back then. But you've progressed—"

"And so have you," I interjected. "I don't actually remember anything other than the memory you shared with me. I remember the feeling…if that makes sense." I looked to Edward questioningly. "But I feel like you were very unhappy. Something about all of the noise."

"It was unbearable." He sighed deeply, letting go of one of my hands and running it through his hair again. "Imagine being a toddler and not having one quiet moment. I cried. I screamed. I used to bang my head against the wall, which is when my parents finally took me to a hospital and just left me there. I had piercing headaches that just wouldn't stop. I can't turn it off, you see. I hear every mind within my range on a constant open channel. Over the years, I'm just learned to deal with it."

"Your piano." I studied Edward's long and graceful fingers in my hands. "I did have a sense of familiarity to that song."

"Your song," Edward smiled. "The resonance of the notes, the frequency of the sound waves, helps to quiet the noise in my head. Short of isolating myself, it's the only time I find any sort of peace." He gripped my hands a little tighter, a wistful expression passing over his features. "And with you. I've been desperate to hear your thoughts my entire life, but I can also find quiet with you. Calm."

"You know that is a little awkward for me." Edward loosened his grip on my hands at my remark and then pulled away entirely. That wasn't my intent. "You talk about me with such experience, but I don't have any of the same recognition."

"None?" Though it looked as though he was trying diligently to cover his disappointment, I had the impression that my admission injured him.

Taking a moment to consider that, I pondered over him and the multitude of sensations he influenced with me. "I feel…" I closed my eyes, concentrating and trying to find the right words. "I'm not sure. It's all so contradictory. Yes, there is something about you that is intrinsically familiar. You…" For all he'd revealed and explained to me, something about my next thought sounded ridiculous in my head. "You have this sort of energy that I perceive. Actually, it's terrifying and overwhelming. I'm just so aware of you that I don't quite know how to process or categorize it."

In understanding, Edward nodded once. "You've always had the ability to sense me. Something about your ability," he explained. "My own ability was classified as offensive, in that it is invasive. Though my telepathy is mostly passive, I can actively control and manipulate it with concentration and effort. A skill I was taught to hone. For lack of a better explanation, it is that ability that you sense."

"Like planting suggestions?" I asked with an arched eyebrow and an expectant tone.

He had the good sense to look playfully contrite, but then the expression morphed into a more genuine regret. "Yes."

Apprehensively, my next question stuck in my throat for several seconds before I found the courage to spill the words. "And memory replacement?"

"I didn't steal your memories, Bella." Edward's emphatic reply was confirmed by the sincere intent of his expression. "The ability is not within my power. What they did to you…" Edward trailed off and screwed his eyes shut. He was practically vibrating with tension, anger. "They call it re-education therapy. The truth is that you were submitted to horrific torture. Honestly, I'm grateful that you don't remember that part."

What, like electroshock therapy? A lobotomy? Something so sadistic and morose that no normal human being could conceive of the idea? I felt the blood drain from my face. Perhaps Edward was right. Considering what could, hypothetically carve the memories out of me and replace them with a fabricated existence had me feeling nauseous. Could it really be true? Was it more or less unbelievable than the very real evidence I'd already witnessed and experienced firsthand?

I still had so many questions.

The beach was brightening. Not quite sunrise yet, but the waning night was sure to give way to dawn soon. I dragged my fingers through the sand, idly drawing nonsensical patterns in the rough canvas. I wasn't the fictional Alice thrust into a world upside down. I was an anonymous character in the wrong story. Pages ripped and re-written, forced and stapled into a new manuscript. I was no one. I wasn't myself, nor did I have any connection to the person Edward claimed me to be.

"Tell me about it," I murmured. "Who they are. The program." I lifted my gaze to Edward's sympathetic eyes. "Who I was."

"Come here," he whispered and pulled me to his side, wrapping his arm around my shoulder to encourage me to rest my head against his arm. "It isn't a pleasant story," Edward warned gently. "And even I don't have all of the answers that you need, but I'll share with you all that I can." He took a breath, my head lifting with the rise and fall of his inhalation. "I've missed you, Bella."

"I want to miss you, too." But I had to remember first.


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

* * *

**Chapter 13 **

Edward kept his protective arm around my shoulder, perhaps trying to ease my anxiety as much as he sought the reassurance that I wasn't running away from him. He began by explaining his own story. After his parents left him at a hospital when he was three years old, the doctors subjected him to an endless round of tests, everything from x-rays to MRIs and CAT Scans, as well as blood tests and myriad of other investigative procedures. As he explained, he learned later that it was those tests that first alerted doctors to his abnormalities. Edward had displayed unusual brain activity. A trait common in all participants in the Volturi Project.

There'd been a standing request—a notice to the medical community—that any subjects with such specific abnormalities should be documented. At the time, there was a research team from a small medical institute in Italy who were studying such cases. The hospital alerted the researchers, who then sent a representative to Chicago where Edward had been admitted to the hospital. He was considered a danger to himself, isolated and kept sedated for fear he'd continue to hurt himself. His parents had effectively disappeared, refusing to acknowledge their son, so the Italians convinced the state that he'd receive the treatment and care necessary to eventually function with his "disability" if they were given custody of the child.

"I don't know anything about your life before the program or how they found you," Edward stated apologetically, "but I suspect it is similar to my own. Maybe you were injured at some point, I don't know. But my best guess is that you must have been admitted to a hospital at some point in order to have been identified for the program."

Absently, I ran my hand through my hair, feeling at the scar on the back of my skull. I had no memory of how or when I got it, and my parents always managed to divert the conversation when I'd asked about it. There was a running joke that Renee had dropped me on my head when I was a baby.

My parents.

Were they my parents? Renee and Charlie were the only family I'd ever known. If I was to believe Edward, what would that make them? How had I ended up with them? Accepting Edward's version of my history would mean the only two people I trusted implicitly had lied to me. A silent tear slid down my cheek as Edward continued to talk in hushed tones.

"Mostly, the program was every bit the school it purported to be," Edward went on. "We were segregated in age groups and attended all the typical classes, were afforded time to enjoy whatever activities interested us, and were given tutors for any creative or academic areas where we showed particular aptitude beyond our peers."

"But that wasn't all," I interjected.

"No," he confirmed with a tone of disgust. "At first, when we were too young to understand, the tests just seemed like games. The doctors and therapists spent the first five years of our development attempting to document the full extent of our abilities. I was taught to make sense of the voices in my head, learned to isolate and concentrate on particular thoughts, and demonstrated my range. They were cultivating us and attempting to develop our talents to their fullest."

"And then?" I asked hesitantly. I needed to know, though I really didn't want to hear it.

"The real mission was to isolate the cause of the abnormal brain activity—find the trigger that unleashed our potential and gave us our abilities. We were subjected to medical exams and invasive procedures as they struggled to determine if the cause lived in our brain chemistry, our DNA…" Edward trailed off, visibly wincing at his own memories.

"The memory you gave me," I diverted the topic, wanting to ease his suffering if I could, but also curious. "The one where the doctors are taking you away from me. What happened that day?"

"You showed all of the evidence that you should possess an extrasensory ability, but they'd yet to identify any special talent in you. You see," Edward explained, "all of us were developmentally superior to average children our age. We talked earlier, read earlier, comprehended complex concepts with ease."

"But I couldn't read minds," I answered for him.

"For starters," Edward replied with just a touch of forced humor. "Others displayed physic abilities, telekinesis, a myriad of talents. But no, they couldn't determine your ability beyond the fact that you were the only person that I couldn't read."

"What happened?" I asked again with greater insistence. Recalling the memory Edward had shared through my dream, I felt the same pang of loss and loneliness.

"They thought that somehow you were hiding it from them; that you'd been purposefully suppressing your talent. They separated us for three months as punishment in an attempt to break your will."

Edward tightened his arm around me, cradling me to him. In answer, I reached both my arms around his solidly muscular body and hugged him tightly. Who would do that to children? Stripping two friends apart who were too young and too naïve to understand their own incarceration, much less hide their innate abilities.

"Why did they keep me there?" I questioned him again. "If I couldn't do anything special, why didn't they just let me go?"

"Because your tests consistently indicated greater brain activity. By all measurable standards, you were getting stronger, but they just didn't know how or to what effect. One day, I think we were twelve or thirteen, there was an…incident."

I peered up at Edward's vague description and cautious inflection. A reluctant smile curved one side of his lips, like he was trying not to smile at a private joke.

"It was our first kiss," he announced just above a whisper. My eyes widened and I pulled away from him, feeling oddly embarrassed. Probably because I thought our first kiss—and I still didn't understand where it had come from—took place a few minutes ago.

Edward sighed, running his hand through his hair as I watched intently and nibbled on my bottom lip. "It was just an innocent peck. I promise. We were kids," he offered in explanation with a shrug.

"So what happened?"

His private smile widened to a proud—if cocky—smirk. "You shorted out all of the electronics in the media room." My face went pale as I felt all of the blood retreat to my toes. "You put on quite a pyrotechnic display."

I pulled away from him, scowling. "I'm so glad you find this amusing," I bit out. Now was not the time to be cracking jokes. I was on a hair trigger, and at any moment the pent up agitation and confusion could erupt in a tirade of epic proportions.

"I'm sorry," he conceded quickly. "Forgive me, but everything else aside, that is a very pleasant memory for me. I can't help the way I react to it."

Another memory that I didn't have. I would have loved to share in it with Edward, but that privilege had been stripped away cruelly and forcibly. I made a gesture for Edward to go on, huffing out my irritation, but not put off enough to allow him to stop talking. He composed his features, settling back into his recitation.

"As a result, you were submitted to a new battery of tests. At first, it was posited that maybe you possessed some kind of electrokinesis. If the doctors had never tried to encourage the behavior or investigate the possibility, it was possible that they would have missed it. That is how they first identified your sensitivity to electromagnetic energy. In fact, it was a startling find. Through you, they discovered that all of us projected a subtle energy—a field, of sorts. It is entwined with our abilities. Whether the cause or the effect, I still don't know. But you," he smiled proudly, "where the only one with the ability to sense them."

"Can I?" I asked in awe, looking up into Edward's brilliant eyes as the sky began to incrementally brighten with color. "Electrokinesis? Like controlling electricity?"

"I never saw you do it consciously, no." My face fell in disappointment. For some reason, I was excited about the possibility. After all, who doesn't want to have super powers? Other than accidentally shorting out televisions and launching a man across the beach—also by accident—I was getting the short, dull end of the awesome stick. "But I do believe you have the innate ability to manipulate electromagnetic fields similar to your inherent ability to block me out. As I alluded to earlier, I believe that you, in fact, generate your own stable field. Not only is it possible that you could affect electronics, but you could conceivably co-opt the talent of any other of our kind."

"The way we were able to communicate in my dream," I replied in understanding. "The two-way radio," to return to his example.

"Exactly," Edward nodded. "Bella," he took my face in his hands, leveling his intense gaze with mine, "you are undoubtedly the most magnificent creature I've ever encountered."

For a moment, while our eyes locked and my pulse sped, I thought Edward might try to kiss me again. I'd try my hardest not to hurt him this time. Instead, he pulled back and released me, seemingly shirking off whatever had compelled him in the first place.

We were quiet again. I fidgeted restlessly, burrowing my fingers in the sand and replaying our conversation back in my head while still refusing to fully accept the wide-ranging ramifications of having my world turned inside out. The idea that Edward and I shared a past was appealing. Whatever it was about him—the energy he said I was predisposed to sense or just his natural aura—I gravitated toward him. I enjoyed the fond way he spoke about his memories of me and his insistence that we'd been close at one time.

I looked up, searching Edward's expression as he turned to face me. "How did we get out of the program?"

Edward contemplated silently for several seconds as a range of emotions played out behind his eyes. He appeared uncertain or perhaps just hesitant, I wasn't sure.

"There was a girl," he admitted. "The one near me in the memory I gave you?" He asked me.

"Your sister," I supplied. "At least, that's what I remember from the dream."

"In a manner of speaking," he nodded. "Not my biological sibling. We were both orphans and arrived at the institute the same day. Part of the initiation process when entering the program was providing the subjects with a backstory. Basically, they had to give us identities. Nearly all of the children brought into the project were abandoned in one form or another, but—"

"Some were taken," I interjected in disgust.

"Yes. To keep us in line, to keep us compliant, they had to give us a new reality to believe in. There was a doctor—a generally nice man who was kind and gentle with us—who said that he'd adopted the two of us—my sister and I—and we would be a new family."

"She is a psychic," Edward continued. "Her premonitions aren't always certain and she can't control when they come or what she'll see, but nevertheless, she has visions of possible futures. One day, when we were sixteen, she saw us escaping. For three months, we just sat on that knowledge. The idea had occurred to all of us at one time or another, once we were old enough to see the manipulation for what it was."

"You have to understand," Edward's demeanor shifted as he cut himself off, "we were completely isolated from the outside world. For most of our lives, we didn't know there was any other way to live. The few movies and shows we were allowed to see were all old and it was ingrained in us that it was purely fantasy entertainment. And those who didn't immediately accept the program were subjected to re-education therapy. But my sister and I, we were different. She caught glimpses of the outside. I heard the thoughts of the doctors and therapists. So when we were older, escape is all we thought about."

I nodded, though I didn't see why Edward felt the need to justify himself. It was as though he was asking forgiveness, but I didn't know enough to hold a grudge against him. Whatever notion he had that maybe he should have known better, he was a just a boy who grew into a teenager. He didn't know any better.

"The doctor who had declared himself our adopted father came to my room one night. He told me he was getting us out—my sister and I—and that he'd help us out of the country. He said he'd take us in, that he had made arrangements back in the states for us to start a new life. He promised to take care of us."

"He was trying to save you, but why then? He helped them for years. He was one of them."

"Change of heart or guilty conscious, whatever you want to call it," Edward shrugged disinterestedly. "But we both refused."

"What?" I snapped up, stunned. "Why?"

"He wouldn't take you with us. He said it was going to be difficult enough trying to get out with my sister and I. We'd made the decision in preparation for that night that we weren't leaving without you."

"You sacrificed yourself for me," I answered as my face fell to look at my trembling hands. "And I don't even remember," I whispered regretfully.

"I convinced him to take you instead." He stated softly, further twisting the knife of guilt tearing through my heart. "But that night, he didn't make it past the front door. You were both caught. I don't know what happened to the doctor after that, but that night when he came for you was the last time I saw you. I met you in the hallway outside our rooms, hugged you one last time, and that was it."

"You don't know how I got out? You don't know how I ended up with my parents?" I shot to me feet, pissed, frantic, scared, and angrier still. "After everything you've told me, you don't know the most important information that I need?" Tears sprang forth, my eyes stinging with rage and disappointment.

"I'm so sorry," Edward hurried to comfort me but I yanked myself free of his arms and backed away, turning from him. "Bella, I swear I'd tell you if I knew. You were just gone. My sister and I got out two years later. I did everything I could think of to find you. Everything in our powers," he punctuated the depth of that word, "to track you down. She didn't have a vision of you. Every lead we followed was a dead end. We moved all over the states and Europe searching for you, little bird. You're all I've thought about."

Slowly, I turned to face him. Fierce determination heated my face as I pinned Edward back with my stare. He'd been looking for me. And in this most unlikely of places, under the most improbable circumstances, he'd found me.

Suspicious of the very pertinent bit of information Edward had conveniently left out, I leveled my question at him bitterly. "How did you get here?"


	14. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

* * *

**Chapter 14**

My question hung in charged silence like a downed power line twitching on wet pavement. Warning sparks crackled as the dangerous thing flickered and taunted, begging for prey to step into the pool of suffering. It was a trap. Not a clever or stealthy snare, but a plain and obvious noose hanging in wait. If Edward intended to keep his promise, he had no choice but to walk forward willingly, accept the burn of high voltage—just enough length to hang him while he absorbed the deadly voltage. But I was confusing my metaphors. Though, to this particular situation, both were apt.

I held my unwavering gaze on his blank expression. Whether he intended to be truthful or not, the instinct to mask his reflexive response to my question was clear. Seconds ago, Edward showed only concern and sympathy. Now, while he silently deliberated, he retreated into a practiced façade. I knew it was practiced even without any true memories or knowledge for comparison. No one hides so expertly in plain sight without having cultivated the skill. As a telepathic, he surely had become an expert at disguising his own emotions while peering into the unhindered thoughts of others.

Maybe he was waiting for me to give up. Maybe Edward thought I'd tire of the staring contest and relent. If he knew me at all, at one time, he clearly understood very little about the woman I'd become apart from him. A curse or a virtue of character, I was one stubborn chick. I could hold out as long as it took to get an answer. I'd stand my ground so long as he was inclined to perpetuate this standoff.

I nearly spoke again, a prodding demand that he cough up an answer, but bit back the impulse. Breaking the silence would only weaken my position. It would speak to my impatience and indicate to him that I would tire quickly if he were strong enough to remain quiet. No, I'd maintain my silence and allow him to break first.

Quicker than expected—I had enough respect for the strange man to assume he'd put up a good fight—his eyes flicked away from mine to look over my shoulder. Apparently I was expecting him to lie or at least dodge the question. That didn't say much for the brief trust we'd forged. I braced myself for his response, but it didn't come in the form I'd expected. Rather than speak a full syllable, he narrowed his eyes at whatever had caught his attention behind me. Frustration and something akin to loathing hardened Edward's features and tightened his jaw. When he failed to pull his riveted gaze away, I turned to see what vexed him.

Jacob. He was sauntering down the beach toward us, dressed in fresh clothes. It was fully dawn by the time I realized Edward had stalled long enough to cut our conversation short. He'd escaped me for the time being. The tactic of avoidance irked me and I scowled at him, now that it was apparent he'd won this round. How quickly Edward transitioned from friend to adversary.

"Bella," Jake greeted me with a friendly smile that looked too forced. He was upset. "Jasper's about ready." His eyes wandered over to Edward with steely disapproval before settling on me again. As he took a moment to survey me, I saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I replied, attempting to make it sound honest. "Why?"

Edward and I weren't observably close by any means. We stood three feet apart, nothing to indicate we'd experienced a range of emotions over the last few hours. Nothing to suggest I'd felt his lips against mine and the soothing warmth of his comforting touch. So why did Jacob look an inch for slugging him?

Jacob reached out, making me flinch slightly and his hand pause tentatively, and then swiped a tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb. I almost choked on a breath when I realized I was too angry to notice I hadn't fully stopped crying after unleashing my ire on Edward.

"What did you do to her?" He demanded of Edward in a dark tone.

"Nothing," I repeated emphatically. The turmoil between Edward and I was our own. It didn't involve Jake and I didn't want him intervening. "I'm just…" what would be convincing? "Emotional," I shrugged. "We were just talking," I added to make it clear.

The suspicion behind Jake's eyes told me he wasn't convinced. In fact, he hadn't looked to completely believe a word out of my mouth since he found Edward and I in the jungle last night. Perhaps he wasn't as oblivious as I'd treated him thus far.

I swiped my tears away and took a deep breath to steady myself. Edward was silent still, regarding Jacob with cool disinterest, though I knew better. Right now, while I struggled to judge the situation and how best to diffuse Jake, Edward was reading every thought that flitted through my friend's mind.

"Is Jasper ready to go?" I asked hopefully. The solitude had been destroyed and the moment lost. If Edward was going to start playing his cards close to the vest, I needed a distraction and time to regroup before the next verbal skirmish.

"Just about," Jake answered as he rearranged his expression and looked at me. "Alice is putting some food together for us. We'll eat first and then head out."

"I should get cleaned up and change," I answered him, glancing down at my clothes. "So umm…" I searched between the two men. This moment felt uncomfortably awkward. "Yeah," I nodded to myself and then slipped past both of them to head back to the camp. I felt them trail behind me, but didn't look back.

xXx

While I would have preferred to stall a bit longer while bathing and dressing for the day, I knew too many men were waiting for me to emerge from my solitude. Without a doubt, Jake had started to put me on a timer. Too long out of his line of sight and he'd be tracking me down. His concern was just as suffocating as it was kind. Thus, I was quick about washing and returning to the camp.

Around the fire, Jake and Jasper were packing their backpacks. Alice was filling bottles of water from the basin the others had engineered to collect rain. Most of our group had risen as well. Irina and Tanya stood in the surf washing clothes, Garrett and Laurent were chopping lengths of bamboo with one of Emmett's hatchets, and Carlisle sat in an airline chair while Rose helped him change his bandages. Off to the side, Edward and Emmett were standing together, talking casually. Even at the crack of dawn, Emmett had a friendly smile punctuated by deep dimples.

After hanging up my freshly washed clothing to dry and putting my toiletries back in the shelter I shared with Jake, I picked up my hiking backpack and made my way to Carlisle. I hadn't spoken to him much and felt the need to check in with him. Rose was just tucking the end of a length of blue fabric—it looked like a T-shirt torn in one long strip—into one of the fold around Carlisle's torso when I approached them.

"How is it?" I asked when they both looked up to acknowledge me.

"Healing well," Carlisle smiled politely. He looked tired, like the rest of us, but not half as broken as he had the right to be. "Rosalie was kind enough to help me this morning." For her, his smile almost looked playful.

In answer, Rose scoffed dismissively while her lips twitched. "He was up most of the night with Peter," she answered admonishingly. She pulled her hands away and sat back when her task was finished, looking at Carlisle. "You hadn't changed the bandage in at least twelve hours." The biting tone in her reply didn't dissuade the doctor's smile.

Rose was putting up a great effort to sound irritated and put out for helping Carlisle, but obviously she'd shown concern for him. I inferred that kindness from Rose came with a price. She would help you, but she'd make you sorry for needing it. It was her way, I guessed, of keeping people at arms length. Like she tried so hard to pick fights—as she had with me—just to hide the fact that she was lonely.

"I'll make an effort to be less irresponsible in the future," he replied with a touch of sarcasm. Rose damn near smiled. Carlisle had her pegged, and she knew it.

"Whatever," she shrugged and stood. "I suppose you're hungry?" Like eating was just another means Carlisle had to further inconvenience her, but she was offering.

"Thank you," he answered simply.

"Bella? Help me out for a second?" She looked at me expectantly, as though she were calling a small child. Rose didn't need my help, more likely she wanted to ask again about our mission to hike the higher elevations to send a radio signal this morning. I followed her over to the food cache, waiting for her to speak first.

Taking longer than necessary, Rose handled a few fruits, inspecting them for ripeness, and then offered a few to me. I took them without comment and slid them into my backpack for this morning's hike. She could take as long as she needed to work up the nerve to talk. I wouldn't rush her, delicate as our truce was.

When Rose stood, her eyes scanning behind me for a moment, I saw the unease that tightened her graceful features. If she didn't frown and scowl so much, Rose would be gorgeous. She was beautiful, of course, but not as invitingly lovely as she could be if she smiled once in a while. Like a woman who never grew out of tall-girl syndrome; slouching and hanging her shoulders because she was teased as a child for sprouting over the heads of her classmates and even the boys, never gaining the confidence to realize that tall women would own the world if they stood up straight and acknowledged their power.

"You were with that man last night?" Rose fixed her determined gaze on me with unnerving severity. There was an accusation in her tone, but her question sliced at me somehow. Maybe it was the innuendo of that statement. In what way was I with him?

"We talked," I answered in confirmation.

"And what did he tell you?" Rose was interrogating me more with her eyes than her words, which caused a momentary stutter to my forming lie. Because I'd have to lie to everyone from here on out, right?

"I found him—"

"I know," she waved her hand to cut me off. "Jasper explained," she added. "But what did he tell you, specifically?"

I needed to start getting the story straight, starting with the Blonde pinning me down with her intelligent blue eyes framed with loose strands of golden hair. "He was in the forward section of the plane," I repeated his statement from last night.

"What seat?" She was undeterred, speaking as though she were reading off a pre-determined list of questions.

"I don't know." We hadn't been that specific in our ruse. "Business class," I remembered.

She eyed him over my shoulder again, narrowing her gaze and lips pursed. "He's lying," she stated confidently. Her eyes slid back to mine, pausing.

I was taken aback; caught off guard by the definitive statement. She was right, of course, but I didn't understand how she'd so easily and effectively come to that conclusion less than an hour after finding Edward in our camp. My stunned silence must have gone on too long.

"He wasn't on the plane," Rose stated in further clarification, unnecessary as it was.

"Why would you say that?"

"I'm excellent with faces. I could pick every one of the passengers out of lineup."

Rose had been the flight attendant at the door when we boarded, so surely she did have the opportunity to catch a glance of each of us. Still, there were three hundred people on that plane. Surely her memory wasn't that good.

"We've all been through a trauma," I hedged. "I can't even remember the crash, much less the people sitting around me."

"I can tell you where everyone of them was sitting," she argued. "He wasn't on the plane."

Her interference—the threat that she'd expose Edward before I was ready—made me bitter. Why couldn't anyone on this island just mind his or her damn business? Whatever Edward was, he wasn't a threat to them.

"Then where did he come from?" I asked mockingly. I didn't much like the harsh tone of my voice, but this was Rose, after all. We'd started out with similar inflections. "Really, Rose. You're not making any sense." My callous dismissal of her brought out a similarly hateful sneer. She'd come to me in confidence twice now. She was trying to trust me, and I was tossing that back in her face. After all, where Edward was concerned, she couldn't trust me.

"I'm right," she bit out. "I don't where he came from or why he's here, but that man was not on the plane," she reiterated.

"Maybe you should keep the conspiracy theories to yourself." I was really starting to hate myself, but what Edward offered me in the form of answers was more valuable to me than Rose's feelings or friendship. "I'm pretty sure Carlisle already has Peter on suicide watch. You don't want them watching you, too. Waiting for you to lose it. They still don't know you were one of the flight attendants, right?" It was threat. A dare that she reveal herself and face the inquisition about the cause of the crash. What a bitter, hateful person I was proving to be.

But I'd tipped my hand, and Rose wasn't so oblivious as to miss that fact.

Instead of waiting for her to question me further, I left her scowling at the back of my head. Edward's eyes slid to mine from several yards away. He appeared to be giving his attention to Emmett, but in fact was cautiously appraising me. He'd undoubtedly been privy to that heated exchange. Only he could tell me how far Rose would go with the information she now possessed. I'd threatened her to cover for Edward, which could only mean I was in league with the beautiful stranger.

I strode up to where he stood with Emmett, apparently walking in on the tail end of a joke as the burly man laughed from deep in his belly. "You ready?" I pointedly asked Edward.

"Bells, if you come across a cute cheerleader in a tiny skirt, be sure to bring her back for me, yeah?" Emmett smirked at me, nudging my shoulder. "Since you're in the business of retrieving strays now."

"Sure thing," I shrugged and smiled, tilting my head back to look up at Emmett. Apparently he approved of our new addition. "Any particular team?"

"I'm not picky."

"Noted." I looked back at Edward impatiently as my smiled faded. I didn't repeat the question, only waiting for him to agree.

"I take it I will be joining the hike?" He raised one eyebrow playfully, which irritated me as much as it tugged on my softer side. He was too pretty when he did that.

"Obviously," I delivered in a dry tone. He knew better than to think I was letting him out of my sight. Since I couldn't back out of the trip this morning, Edward was coming with me.

"Emmett? I'd step lightly around Rose this morning."

He glanced behind me, eyebrows raised before they settled back into a tired expression. "Thanks for the heads-up, wingman." He rubbed his hand roughly over his face, ruffling the sleepiness from his features. "I'm going to help Garrett and Laurent work on another shelter," he informed Edward, who nodded appreciatively. "And I packed a few supplies in your bag. Okay, Bella?"

"PB&J with the crust cut off?" I asked with a silly grin.

"Rope and sharp objects," he replied, as if to say "same difference."

"Thanks, Emmett." Shifting my gaze, I sighed. "Let's get on with it," I told Edward as I tightened my backpack on my shoulders and brushed past him toward Jasper and Jake.

"I'm sorry," Edward whispered next to me as we walked toward the guys.

"Not yet," I replied sardonically.

"You're going to punish me?" I peered up out of the corner of my eye, catching his amused tone and crooked grin.

"Punish is such a harsh word," I answered sweetly. "And accurate." I watched as he swallowed a laugh, his smile insisting across his lips.

When we reached our travel companions for the day, Jasper and Alice were engaged in conversation. As much as Jasper showed any emotion, he looked concerned for the little pixie. With good cause, I saw, because she looked every bit the tired woman who hadn't slept in two days. Her hair was mussed and she had deep purple bags under her wide eyes.

"Carlisle has to take it easy with his injury," Jasper said in a soft tone, "stay close to him today," he asked Alice kindly. "Try to get some rest in his shelter, okay?"

She nodded weakly, looking up into his eyes with the slightest hint of something more than acquiescence. Her gaze shifted to Edward and I, then locked on the man standing next to me. A slow but controlled smile curved her lips, though her brow furrowed, erasing the brief expression.

"It's going to rain again this afternoon," she announced to all or none of us. Her eyes wandered blankly toward the ocean for several seconds. Alice yawned, but it looked manufactured. "Good luck." She briefly gave Jasper a hug. Interesting. Then she loped over to Carlisle by the fire.

"That girl is weird," Jake commented. His tone wasn't particularly disparaging, but it rankled me anyway. The three of us shot him similarly disapproving looks. "What? She's nice, just strange."

"I like strange," I proclaimed proudly, pushing past him and trudging toward the tree line without waiting for the men to set our course. We had a mission to accomplish.

The Scottish Play came to mind as I trampled over greenery into the humid shadows of the jungle, three men on my tail.

"_If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly."_


	15. Chapter 15

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

**A/N:** FAIL. It just occurred to me that I've been exchanging "peek" for "peak" in the last few chapters. So sorry. I don't know where my head went. Sometimes I just fixate on a word. Excuse my laps. Ha ha. Lapse.

* * *

**Chapter 15**

**Day 3 - Morning**

**14 Survivors (+1)**

Why were we playing out this farce? I hadn't stopped to ponder that question before stalking off into the jungle on the prearranged mission. We'd agreed yesterday that our best hope of rescue was to seek higher elevation and try the emergency transceiver again. We had a plan, and like Edward hadn't magically appeared to alter my reality, I'd been intent on sticking to that plan in blind obedience.

Except, now I knew better. Or rather, I assumed better, because Edward had not given me an answer to my most recent and urgent question. He was right here next to me, exuding such a potent and powerful energy that I'd have to be dead not to feel it seducing me closer with every passing moment, and participating in the charade he knew was pointless.

Well, maybe not pointless, exactly. This experiment could work and we might get out a distress call. But a quicker and less exhausting option would simply be to catch a ride back to civilization with Edward. He didn't arrive on the plane. I'd known that from the second I had laid eyes on him. And yet, it wasn't until this very moment that I thought about it enough to realize he must have planned a way out just as surely as he'd arranged to be waiting for me on this island.

His sister, the psychic, had apparently had the vision they'd been waiting on. She'd seen the crash and he'd come here to find me. It was the only logical explanation I could come up with. Logical in the new sense of the word that applied to a world where nothing logical was as it should be.

How long had he been waiting? Did he know the exact date? The flight number? The location from which I departed and where I would land? If so, surely there were easier means of setting up our first meeting. Or, maybe not our first, but a reunion. Why here? I couldn't imagine that Edward would have allowed me to suffer this tragedy if he had any means of preventing the crash.

No, he must not have seen so clearly. His sister provided a clue and he followed the only lead he had. I had never acted with such fierce determination on a single goal, with so little reassurance or evidence. I had never pursued any one thing for as many years as Edward claimed to have been searching for me. I certainly hadn't crossed oceans and continents for someone. He had defied all laws of physics to track me down.

What would I do when I finally had everything I'd spent the majority of my life seeking?

Why the heck was I trudging through the jungle with two unwanted witnesses when Edward and I should be secluded in deep discussion? Maybe I didn't have the memories necessary to accurately feel his relief, but surely I was torturing him on this expedition. He didn't want to be impeded by Jake and Japer while we both played innocent. He wanted privacy. He wanted me.

Fuckshitdamn.

Not a phrase I used often and rarely did it move past my lips, but now was an appropriate time to revert to my favorite curse.

Fuckshitdamn twice.

I growled under my breath, swatting flimsy tree limbs and green brush out of my way with violence no piece of foliage deserved. Stupid girl.

"Did that plant do something to offend you?" Jake snickered as he caught up with my quicker pace.

"Bite me," I hissed.

"Ouch," he laughed outright, losing his step and hurrying to catch up again. "I knew you'd be cranky without sleeping."

Jasper glanced over at me, a mixture of surprise and curiosity on his face. Edward closed the small distance between us, walking on the opposite side of me from Jake and serving a surreptitious glance in my direction. Yeah, everyone noticed I was behaving abnormally. I didn't give a flying fuck.

"I think we should split up," I announced as I came to an abrupt halt and rounded on the men. Because this game was just stupid. I hated pointless exercises that yielded nothing. If I were going to act, I would act with a purpose.

"Bella—"

"We have two needs: water and rescue." I held up my hand, cutting off Jake's expected argument as he predictably spoke to issue his warning and disapproval. "Edward and I will hike up the ridge to try the radio and you and Jasper can keep looking for a permanent water source." I suspected we wouldn't really need a water source for much longer, but it was as good an excuse as any to get several uninterrupted hours alone with Edward.

"You're right about our priorities," Jasper answered, "but I'm not sure that splitting up is a great idea." He appraised my stern expression and then studied Edward with that I know recognized as the suspicious stare of a law officer.

"I can't get us lost," I continued to answer the anticipated arguments. "Just keep walking toward the big peek up there." I pointed in the direction of our target in the distance. "And on the way back we'll follow the same path toward the setting sun. Easy. But you are better at navigating and establishing a grid to search. You should hunt for water. Edward and I can figure out the radio," I told Jasper.

I saw the moment his reluctance turned to agreement. "You're right," Jasper replied confidently. "We'll accomplish more if we divide the tasks."

"You're kidding me," Jake answered in exasperation and disbelief. He fully expected Jasper to talk some sense into me. "No way. I'll go with Bella. New Guy can help you find the 7-11."

"I'll take care of her," Edward stated in a tone that left no room for debate. He slid his hand into mine as Jasper dug in his bag to pass me the radio.

"Not happening," Jake stepped forward, challenging Edward and attempting to stake a claim to territory that had never belonged to him.

I would have been more delicate if not for the fact that my nerves were shot and I was beyond impatient at this point. "Don't be immature," I chided Jake. "Emmett packed my bag full of pointy things and we've got plenty of food and water for the hike. I know you're trying to look out for me, but it is just starting to sound like you think I'm completely helpless and incompetent."

That bullet landed. Jake's expression shifted from wounded surprise to disappointed resignation quickly. "I'm sorry," he stated without inflection. "Be careful. I'll see you back at the beach later."

xXx

I trudged on in perturbed but meaningful silence for several minutes, Edward's hand in mine, before I stopped and dropped my backpack at the base of a towering tree. He did the same; leaving the bag someone must have given him at his feet. With a raised eyebrow, I waited expectantly for Edward to speak first. Yes, the game was back on, and I intended to win this time.

"By boat," he stated succinctly.

Edward's expression was impossible to read, beautiful in the muted light slipping down through the green canopy, but still irritatingly mysterious. This was the first opportunity I'd taken to truly examine him in good light. Most of our introduction had taken place in the dark, after all. As I'd known, his eyes were the most brilliant and lovely shade of bright green. The wash of color was stark against somewhat pale skin, contrasting with the brownish-bronze head of tussled hair. Too pretty to be real.

"Great," I replied with insincere joy, "get her gassed up and we'll gather the others at the docks."

"Bella," Edward sighed and ran his hand through his hair. I'd noticed it was a nervous habit of his. "It isn't that easy."

"Sure it is," I argued. "Or is it not large enough to carry all of us? Are you out of fuel? That wasn't great planning on your part." My tone was testy and sarcastic, and I didn't try to mask my annoyance. "You must have a radio and some point of contact waiting for you, right? Your sister? I'm sure between the two of us, and all of our superior intellect, we can figure this out."

"Please stop," he asked softly. "Don't do this."

"Do what? Try to get off this godforsaken island? Try to save the other innocent people we left back at the beach? Why not, Edward?"

"It wasn't my intention to hide anything from you. Back at the beach, we couldn't get into it then. Jacob was going to interrupt. Better that he not overhear anything he shouldn't."

"The first words out of your mouth should have been an offer of rescue," I admonished him. "You should have led with saving us and then, when we were all sipping mojitos on a fast boat to Honolulu, you could toss my world upside down with your bullshit about being long-lost buddies."

Ouch. That one hurt me. Really hurt, actually. I winced and dropped my eyes to the ground covered in dead and decaying leaves that blanketed the fresh grass beneath, taking a step back in shame. Something inside me coiled tight and ached so badly I couldn't take in a breath right away.

"And where will you go when you escape this place?" Edward's hushed inquiry was gentle but pointed. It cut me. Perhaps that was his intent, slicing back at me for so callously stabbing at him. I didn't know, but he would have been justified in doing so.

"Home." It was just a word. Home. I spoke it defiantly because Edward and I both knew I wasn't sure. I was taking everything one step at a time. Rescue first, and then figure out where to go.

Home. Two days ago I knew where that was. It could have been Renee's little house with Phil in Arizona. It could have meant Charlie's smaller house in Forks. "Seattle," I answered when I realized there was someone else waiting for me, someone whose relationship to me wasn't in question. "I have a roommate at school." Angela. I missed her. "I have a life." One more volley back at him.

"And how does Jacob fit into that life?"

I snapped my eyes up to Edward. There was bitterness in his voice that surprised me. Yeah, Jake was a bit clingy and overprotective, but he was just trying to help. I far preferred his suffocation to loneliness under these circumstances. He was the only friend—

A cold shiver ran down my spine. I took several steps back, leaning against the nearest tree for support incase my legs gave out from under me. My head swam with the sudden realization. Again I was knocked sideways with the understanding that I hadn't properly analyzed and dissected the far-reaching ramifications of Edward's many admissions.

Who the fuck was Jacob Black?

I replayed the conversation we'd shared on the plane of how we met in Sydney. How serendipitous I'd thought our encounter was: two adults who once played as small children. But I didn't have a childhood. I'd been a lab rat in a very pretty cage. I'd fallen for Jake's bullshit so easily. And why not? What possible reason did I have to distrust his sincere smile and kind eyes? His boyish charm and innocence had disarmed me from the first moment.

"What do you know?" I shot the question demandingly at Edward, who'd been watching me intently. "Who is he?"

"I don't—"

"Don't you dare lie to me and say you don't know," I yelled. "Don't you dare!"

"Bella." Edward cupped my face between his hands, staring into my eyes and willing me to listen, commanding me with the palpable energy he exuded. "I will never lie to you," he repeated earnestly. "I know only that he is protective of you. He believes you are his responsibility. He will, without question, sacrifice himself to see you returned to your family. But he is also hiding something. He's conflicted about his loyalties, but to whom else he feels obligated, I have yet to discover."

"We met on the plane," I began through shuddering breaths. "We talked about where we were headed, where we were from, and we realized we were from the same hometown. He knows my dad," I explained. "I knew of him. It all fit. He's the son of my father's," I paused, editing myself, "Charlie's friend Billy."

"Where?" Edward dropped his hands from my face, sliding them down to my shoulders and gently rubbing the upper part of each arm in a calming gesture.

"Forks," I answered. "A little town in northern Washington. Does that mean anything to you?"

"No," he shook his head, as though maybe he was hoping—like me—that together our information might shed light on my origins or at least how I'd fallen into my new life with Charlie and Renee.

"And Charlie, what does he do for a living?"

"He's a cop. Chief of Police in Forks."

Again there was the slightest show of disappointment in Edward's bright green eyes. I wasn't giving him anything useful. For as many questions as I still had, Edward had just as many. Sure, he'd found me, but what had I been up to until now? Who had I become? Who had taken me in and why?

"I need to keep moving," I announced. Edward stepped back, releasing me, as I bent to pick up my bag and open a bottle of water. I probably drank more than was allowed in responsible rationing, but Alice did say it would rain. I wasn't about to question her now. "I'm agitated and I think better when I'm moving."

A sad smile crossed Edward's lips. There was fondness, maybe, a memory. I guess he probably knew that. And, I suppose, I liked that he knew that. I offered Edward the water bottle, which he finished off and put in his bag. We had two more between us, and that should be enough to sustain us for the hike or whatever the hell we were going to do out here. We gathered ourselves and I led the way again toward the high ridge in the distance. It was as good a direction as any.

"Why isn't it that easy?" Seamlessly, I picked back up on our conversation before I'd been deterred with the possibility that Jake was not to be trusted and I had no idea his real connection to my life.

"Rescue?" Edward asked. I shot him a look that warned him not to play dumb. He knew exactly what I was referring to. "It's—"

"If you use the words 'simple' or 'complicated' again, I will not be responsible for my actions. Don't encourage me to start testing my super powers of throwing our your ass around the jungle."

My tongue was getting away from me; a sure sign that I was at my breaking point of polite conversation when "ass" meandered outside of my own thoughts.

Edward chuckled softly, and the sound went straight to my taut nerves, calming and placating them. "I won't tempt my fate," he agreed with an indulgent smirk.

"I'm waiting," I taunted him impatiently.

"You know, you used to steal my crayons, too. You complained that I hogged all the blues for too long. Patience was never a virtue of yours. If I recall correctly, you also had a nasty habit of biting when I didn't let you have your way."

Whatever. I didn't remember a word of it so I couldn't be bothered to feel embarrassed. "But which one of us learned our tactics of stalling and distraction from the other?" I arched my eyebrow, calling him out the game of avoidance.

"See, what you term distraction I call conversation." Edward held back a tangle of vines in my path, allowing me to pass unhindered. "I've been rather lonely out here waiting for you. Perhaps I'm just delighted to have a someone to talk to."

"Someone?"

"You," he answered meaningfully. "When we were children, you'd sneak into my room and ask me to read with you until you fell asleep beside me. You had nightmares," he clarified, "and so you'd bring one of your favorite books and tell me to read while you closed your eyes and tried not to remember your dreams. When we were older, you'd still sneak into my room at night, and we'd stay up talking for hours."

I reached out for his hand, squeezing it tightly. At that very second, there was nothing I wanted more than to share that memory. I hated that so many of the pleasant reminders Edward offered were hollow to me. Empty. Just stories of a life I might as well have never lived.

"I still have nightmares. I never remember them, but I've woken up screaming and thrashing in bed. Do you think…" I took a breath, letting a few pieces of the puzzle fall into place. "It's a symptom of having my memories replaced, isn't it? The re-education therapy."

"Yes," he answered. "There've been others that my sister and I have come across over the last several years while looking for you. I know this will sound absurd, but the nightmares might be a promising sign. It could be that your past has not been erased completely. Rather than expunged, your recollection may only have been suppressed and covered with falsities. My Bella might still be in there somewhere."

His Bella. I didn't hate the way that sounded, though the wistful way he spoke the endearment made me think he hadn't consciously spoken that part aloud. Just a slip of the tongue.

"Am I really that different?" Was Edward disappointed in the person he'd found?

"No," he smiled genuinely as he turned to look at me. "Not so different at all."

We walked in silence for a while. I had to process Edward's revelations in smaller doses. Taking in so much at once was leaving gaps in my ability to see all of the consequences. I was losing the forest for the trees. And still he'd managed to divert the pertinent topic still dangling unsatisfied between us. The terrain began a gradual incline as we proceeded through the humid thickness of the jungle. Quiet settled between us, at which point I began to identify with Edward. I wanted to know what he was thinking almost as much as I wanted my next breath.

"What was my last name?" I asked after a long while. Maybe it was insignificant. Another fabricated part of an engineered identity, but I wanted to know just the same.

"You didn't have one. None of us did. At one time, yes, but not inside the program. I've only ever known you as Bella."

"And Little Bird," I reminded him.

"And that," he agreed gladly. "I tried to call you Isabella once. You pinched me."

I laughed at the image that brought to mind. I hoped he was referring to a much younger version of myself. Anything over the age of five would be mortifying. Who went around pinching boys? Me, apparently.

"There's something I don't understand."

"Only one thing?" Edward flashed a smug grin my direction, cocking his eyebrow to mock me.

I rolled my eyes, continuing as if I hadn't been interrupted. "When you convinced the doctor to take me instead…did I really just agree to leave you behind? I know we were younger then, but I can't imagine the person you talk about would abandon her best friend so easily."

I could imagine myself being a ruthless child—what with the biting and stealing crayons, but not so selfish as to escape captivity and not do everything possible to save the two people sacrificing themselves for me.

"It is the one time I've ever lied to you," Edward replied regretfully. I looked over, seeing the distance and sadness behind his eyes as we continued to walk. "I promised we'd make it out, too. I told you my sister had a vision and we'd escape soon, that the doctor had a plan for us and we'd find each other again on the other side."

"I'm right behind you," I absently muttered to myself.

"What?" Edward stopped dead. He grabbed my arm and spun me to face him. "What did you just say?"

"What? Nothing."

He studied my face intently, eyes narrowed and penetrating, his jaw tight. A dull ache in the back of my head spread forward, settling behind my eyes and grew sharper quickly.

"Stop it," I ordered curtly. The pain ceased immediately. "Don't do that again," I warned him. "I mean it." Yanking my arm free of him, I stomped off. I was several feet ahead before I heard Edward follow. The air had shifted around us. The energy was tense. Something was different, but I couldn't put my finger on what exactly. If Edward wasn't going to lie to me, he certainly was holding back. I just didn't know enough to guess at what or why.

* * *

**End Notes:** Okay, seriously. Why won't Edward cough up an explanation for how he got to the island (other than by boat) and why he isn't immediately organizing a rescue for the castaways? Hmm… Bella, why are you still hiking toward the ridge? Are you steering the hike, or is Edward?

Going to return to working on the next chapter of LC, but you might see another Crashed update today. We'll see which story calls to me more.


	16. Chapter 16

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

**A/N:** Two updates in one day. I'm on a roll. Actually, I'm just procrastinating on LC. Anywho… If you've arrived here and have not read the first update today, **go back and reach chapter 15**. Okay? We all clear? Cool. Shit's about to get crazy.

* * *

**Chapter 16**

I refused to beg Edward to answer my lingering question. I would not lower myself so much as to threaten and plead for the information for which I was more than deserving. He'd come to me, after all. I hadn't asked for him. I hadn't wished upon a star that a beautiful stranger stalked me to the edge of the world in order to deliver cryptic truths and befuddling revelations. He owed me. Before the day was over, I'd collect.

The stalemate wore on for hours. Edward and I hardly spoke a word to one another as we passed through the jungle into a wide clearing at the base of the peak that we intended to mount. Similarly, as we traversed up the steeper elevation that was half a hike and half a climb, I sensed his mood darkening. With every step that brought us closer to the top I expected Edward to surrender and spare us the exertion. I believed he had a much easier way off the island. He had to have planned. But he didn't utter a single protest. If anything, he pushed our pace faster toward the top.

"Bella?" Edward gently placed his hand on my shoulder, halting me just a few feet from our target. I turned to look at him, confused by the anguish on his face. "I need you to know that nothing can change the way I see you. Deep down, underneath everything they did to you, I know who you are. You're still the same person."

"What are you trying to say?" This was another warning. Like on the beach this morning before the sun rose, he was preparing me with vague preamble.

"I would have done everything in my power to spare you all of this. I explored every possible option to alter the outcome. The ability was beyond me."

"Edward, you're scaring me." He dropped his hand, but that only made me grow cold and more unsettled.

"Go ahead and try the radio," he insisted with a blank expression and flat delivery. Puzzling over his mood, I reached into pull out the device.

I'd watched Jasper fiddling with it, so I mimicked his attempts. The front of the transceiver lit up when I turned the first nob. Examining the screen, I saw a few numbers indicating the frequency. Unfortunately, there were no vertical bars where the signal strength should have been displayed.

"Still no signal," I muttered. I held it up like an antiquated cell phone, searching for signal, and started moving up to the top of the peak.

"You won't get one," Edward answered behind me.

I glanced back at him, confused but more irritated if he had again withheld necessary information. "Why not? If you knew this the whole time, why put us through the trouble?"

"Just look," he nodded over my shoulder. "You need to see it for yourself."

Anxiously, I covered the last steps that allowed me a view over the peak. We stood on top of what would generously be called a small mountain range. More like really big hills to anyone from Arizona or Washington. We weren't even high enough to completely lose grass and other foliage.

Once more into the looking glass. Another fall down the rabbit hole.

Stretched out in the valley below us, settled in a carved out area of the jungle and looming ominously like snake on the front porch, was a compound of white buildings with flat roofs. A dozen similar cinderblock buildings were arranged in tight formation, sticking out blatantly among the native greenery. I didn't have to guess. I didn't have to wonder. I knew exactly who was down there and what went on behind those thick walls.

I sank to my butt, defeated. The radio was forgotten on the ground as it slid from my hand. My backpack slipped off my shoulders. Instinctively, my knees came up to my chest and I wrapped my arms around my legs, resting my chin on my forearms. The sun beat down on the back of my neck, warming me, though I was cold as a stone statue languishing in a darkened museum.

I didn't cry. What would be the point? I gazed out on the sight before me, resigned. No, of course I wasn't going to find rescue and return to whatever poor excuse for a home might be waiting for me. Not with the knowledge imparted by Edward. From the first moment he'd spoken, my fate was sealed. With so many forgotten and forcibly extricated secrets revealed, there was nowhere I could run. I wouldn't be permitted to run.

Was it always inevitable? Had I ever escaped at all as Edward suggested? Or had my comfortable cage only been made larger?

"You win," I muttered. "Take me to your leader." Really, I could only find this entire scenario funny. I'd walked so willingly—no, stomped—into Edward's trap. I never had the upper hand.

_I never had a chance, did I? _

He didn't respond. Was he so skilled that he wouldn't even break character now that the subterfuge was complete?

_You can stop pretending_, I encouraged him. Still, Edward didn't answer my silent message.

_Want to shag like rabbits before you haul me in? I might as well have one last romp, get a little hot and sweaty with a gorgeous man before I submit to incarceration. _

He really wasn't going to budge. I thought for sure that would at least get a laugh. I meant it, too. I'd ravage Edward if it were my last act of freedom. He was certainly attractive enough. I'd earned a real kiss at the very least. Or maybe I was flattering myself. A mind reader would have no trouble bedding a woman. Besides, I might electrocute his dick or something. He hadn't explained the mechanics of that. Staring confinement in the face brought the snarky out of me.

"What was that?" Edward asked hesitantly behind me.

"Which part? You can drop the act or let's shag like rabbits? I've been rambling quite a bit. You'll need to be more specific."

"Excuse me?" It sounded distinctly like Edward was in the process of choking on his own tongue.

"Listen, I'm exhausted, so let's cut the crap. Ignorance doesn't suit you. I assume I'm vastly outnumbered here and won't make it a hundred yards before I'm shot with a tranquilizer dart or something, right? So if you're in the mood, let's have some good ole' American fun. If not, then I just assume get this over with."

"I've always enjoyed your vivid imagination, little bird."

"I've never enjoyed being toyed with. Make your move."

I felt Edward crouch behind me. The heat radiating from his body smothered my back, his breath tickling the side of my neck. Did he think I'd run? Was he going to try and bind my hands? I didn't entertain the idea that I could outrun Edward.

"I'll never see you imprisoned again, Bella." Edward's whispered words graced my ear as his lips barely brushed against my skin. "There isn't a cage conceived that could hold us now."

An electric tingle shot across my skin. Bumps sprung up in response to Edward's low tenor and smooth voice. I swallowed, if only to stop myself from panting. He wasn't even touching me, but I felt acutely aware of every place where our bodies were separated by very deliberate centimeters. It is impossible to hold so still and so close to another person without at least accidental contact. He was teasing me.

But he was also reassuring me.

"You were looking for me," I insisted lamely, barely able to speak.

"Searching, Bella, not hunting."

"Why are we here?"

"The first answer to that question is that you needed to see what waited for us. For you. This is why I called to you the first night. This is why you are in danger. And this is why your radio won't work and I don't have the power—just yet—to get you off this island." I started to interrupt, but Edward quieted me with a sound and continued. "The second reason is that I wanted you to see the proper place to aim your anger. They did this to you, Bella. They deserve the punishment for the consequences."

"This?" I looked over my shoulder, finding Edward's gaze locked on mine in thinly concealed ire. "The crash?" He didn't speak. Edward didn't even blink. "Do you know how it happened? It wasn't a coincidence or a fluke." And that wasn't a question.

"It was a well-constructed accident," he replied cryptically.

"Who brought down the plane?"

"I don't want to tell you."

"Who brought down the plane?" I stated again, my voice lower and full of anger.

"I'd rather lie to you."

I stood, glaring at Edward when he rose to his feet as well. My body felt hot and tense. My fingers were numb, like they'd fallen asleep but were just starting to tingle with pins and needles. A vibrating hum pulsed through me, adrenaline pumping thick in my blood.

"Now, Edward."

"You."

The radio exploded at my feet.

Edward flinched at the minor catastrophe and then pulled me into his arms.

"Get off me!" I screeched. "Don't touch me!"

"I can't do that," he growled.

I tried to shove him away, but he was too strong. I writhed against him, attacking him feebly. I felt the energy building again. Recycling. Recharging.

"Let go of me," I warned him in a tone so thick with malice that I didn't recognize my own voice.

"I won't."

"I'll hurt you."

"I'll take it."

In a blind range, I unleashed a burst of electricity. Our bodies, molded together so tightly that we could have been one entity, shivered and vibrated, but there was no pain. I didn't feel the pain. Edward absorbed it. His face was tight, anguished, in agony. There was no end to my onslaught. No tiredness. I could hold this state indefinitely now that I'd found the trigger. Easy as breathing.

"I love you," he groaned.

"I hate you," I yelled, still trying to concentrate on repelling him. I wanted to push him away like I'd done on the beach. Send him flying through the air and ripping him from his death grip around my body.

"I'll let you," he answered.

I stilled, relented, and shut down. I slumped into Edward's arms and let him cradle me as he gasped for air. In a heap, we fell to the ground.

"I'm sorry," I confessed sincerely. He was a close target, but none of this was his fault.

"Don't be. Not for me." Edward clutched me tightly, showing no reservation after the torture I'd subjected him to. His fingers traced aimless patterns down my back, gentling me.

xXx

"We need to move," Edward whispered against my temple. "We can't stay here."

I nodded against his chest, understanding that I couldn't sink into the earth and crumble with the clay under my feet. And yet, I couldn't make myself move. Not anymore. Too great a weight was holding me down, pummeling me with the sever gravity of my guilt.

I'd killed nearly three hundred people. Knowingly or not, I'd slaughtered innocent people whose only crime was being unlucky enough for boarding a flight with me. I could have killed Angela. Carlisle lost his wife because of me. Randall begged for death at my doing. I was the bullet through Charlotte's brain. I was the landing gear that crushed the life out of Kate and stole her last breath. I was calamity and destruction incarnate. Edward slowly stood, dragging me up with him.

"I'm not going back," I murmured.

"No, Bella. I won't ever let them lay a hand on you again."

"I'm not going back to the beach," I clarified as I stared at the ground and Edward held my shoulders in his firm grip. "I can't face them."

He took a deep breath. "You don't have to. I have—"

"Leave me here. I'll turn myself in. I belong down there." Where I couldn't hurt anyone else. I belonged in a cage. I wasn't fit to be among normal people.

"Over my goddamn dead body," Edward hissed. "Don't do this to yourself, Bella."

"It's done," I answered flatly. "I've lost my right to freedom. I don't deserve it."

"Stop it," he snapped, shaking me. "I'm not letting you throw yourself at their feet. I won't let you break for this. It isn't your fault."

"Of course it is." I didn't know how, but what did it matter? Edward wouldn't have said so if he wasn't certain.

"No." Edward's long fingers splayed over my cheeks, trapping my face and tilting my head back to look at him. I refused, letting my eyes slide away from him to stare into the sun. "Look at me," he barked. I closed my eyes in defiance. In shame. "God damn it."

Hot lips sealed over mine. Edward urged my face to one side, gaining better access to my mouth. I didn't respond. I was numb, but better dead. He growled against my lips, sinking his teeth into the bottom one to nip. The pleasurable sting was just enough to force as breath out, allowing him the space he needed to dart his tongue inside to taste me.

So soft.

So tender and yet demanding.

Such overwhelming deliciousness.

The hum started at every point of contact where Edward held me and then spread like slow lava over my warming body. My muscles relaxed as he coaxed the rigidity to leave my bones. As Edward sensed my surrender, he slid one hand into my hair and the other to the small of my back to press me harder against him. Firm man encompassed and invaded me. My hands fumbled to find purchase, sliding over his shoulders, chest, and stomach. My fingers clawed into his shirt, tugging and commanding.

When Edward pulled his lips from mine, I whimpered my disapproval. Immediately, his longue swept up my neck and flicked over my pulse. His teeth nipped and lips caressed.

"Edward," I moaned.

"I won't let you go," he groaned darkly, holding me tighter as if daring me to try and escape him. "I won't suffer it again." Edward buried his face against my shoulder, breathing heavily over my sensitive and yearning flesh.

"How can I live with this?" I asked of both of us.

"Justice," he replied immediately. "Revenge, Bella. There were dozens of others in the program with us. Maybe hundreds more since then. Those bastards can't be allowed to continue their work. They orchestrated this tragedy to trap us here, but we can use the opportunity to destroy them."

"You sacrificed yourself for me. Again." I looked into Edward's sincere eyes in wonder and found myself undeserving. "You came here knowing you might never leave."

"I'd endure far worse," he answered in confirmation.

I let Edward's suggestion wiggle around and burrow. I let the idea of revenge sink deeper, seeding itself inside the darker reaches of my mind. I felt it sprout roots and take hold in the soil of my brain.

"Tell me how we break them."

* * *

**End Notes:** Rut-roh, Shaggy. Bella's on the war path. "Have fun storming the Castle!"


	17. Chapter 17

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

**A/N:** Remember that warning I gave you when this story began? Well, there ya go. No promises. Only thing that is certain is Bella can never be sure who to trust.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

Edward took my hand, helping me up, and held out my backpack to slip it over my shoulders. He grabbed the crispy radio—I had no idea how we were going to explain its untimely demise—and stuffed it in his own backpack. Together, we turned our back to the compound and proceeded down the ridge.

"I've spent some time up here listening to them," Edward began. "I've counted twelve permanent staff, another four that visit at regular intervals, and six patients…"

I felt sick to my stomach, nauseous with the knowledge of what I'd done. I longed to close my eyes and block out the atrocity bombarding them, but as though the images were burned on the inside of my lids, the visuals did not abate whether I stared at the loose dirt under my feet or screwed my eyes shut in disgust. I saw death and suffering in dozens of vignettes. Pain. Devastation. Even my ears were filled with the deafening noise of three hundred voices all calling out their desperation in a unified symphony of agony.

There was so much blood on my hands. It dripped red and thick from my fingers. I was slathered in it, the coppery tinge invading my nostrils and suffocating me. The horrid stench of death and decay assaulted me, demanding that I acknowledge the sensory evidence of my unforgivable deed. Tiny droplets of red horror slid down my face, hung off the tip of my nose, clung to my eyelashes, and soaked through my clothes. My shoes squished with the soggy liquid. The ground was wet with it, a swamp of morbid sludge.

Edward's voice carried to my ears, but his words were lost on me. I studied my hands intently, watching the trickling patterns and tumults as the ruby truth cascaded from my fingers. Destructive things; mad things that should be bound and submitted.

I was Lady Macbeth. My deeds would never be clean. I smelled the blood still. And all the perfumes of Arabia would not sweeten these little hands. What's done cannot be undone.

No, worse than that. Even Eva Braun, though complicit, never threw the lever on a gas chamber or fired a weapon. I was so much worse than them.

_Foul whisperings are abroad. Unnatural deeds _

_Do breed unnatural troubles; infected minds _

_To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets; _

_More needs she the divine than the physician._

My hallucinations were as vivid as they were terrible. I hoped for insanity to overtake me. Madness would be far preferable to lucidity at this point. I'd welcome another swipe of my memory. Death would be generous salvation and appropriate penance. One does not live with such atrocities carried out; they die a little every day and in every way they slip into melancholy. Or is the truly psychopathic who feel no guilt or remorse?

Too much black bile, that's what the Elizabethans would say. I was a dark soul plagued by an abundance of the substance responsible for lethargy and sin. Best to set the leeches to my skin; bleed me out as payment and in treatment. Rehabilitated is what they'd claim. Cured. Saved. God's divinity done. But they wouldn't know that black bile replenishes. The well from which evil springs is deep and full. All the leeches, by the bucket and barrel full, could gorge themselves on my awfulness and still I'd be an open spigot pouring out unconscionable things to feed their thirst. All the while creating new wickedness, propagating and multiplying.

"Are you awake?" Edward asked.

"No. I don't sleep anymore, so I can't wake."

"And where do you go when you don't sleep?"

"To terrible places. To sick and sad spaces. To red rivers and cold shivers. To horrible and deplorable. To madness is where I've been."

"How do I get there?"

"You have to forget who you were and not know who you are."

"Is that difficult?"

"Easier than you might think. But I wouldn't know, you see, because I don't remember."

Edward paused, reaching behind me to dig in my backpack. He handed me one of the bananas Rose had given me this morning before we'd set out on our hike. "Eat this," he ordered softly. "You haven't had anything all day. You're exhausted, Bella."

True enough, I hadn't been too concerned with food when my mind had been spinning with questions throughout the morning. Worse, I'd skipped bedtime last night. I'd likely only been asleep for an hour or two in the last twenty-four. I was dead on my feet, barely coherent, and not really concentrating on Edward's end of the conversation.

He waited until I'd finished every bit of the fruit before handing me a bottle of water, again staring at me expectantly until I'd consumed half the bottle. He finished the rest, depositing the empty back in his bag before proceeding on our path. I fell in step beside him, though our pace was slower now.

"It wasn't your fault, Bella." Edward observed me from the corner of his eye in a sideways glance.

"Well, that's a relief," I replied caustically. No amount of backpedaling on Edward's part would change the past. The admission was out there. No matter how he tried to justify it or shift blame, he wouldn't have pointed the finger at me if I weren't the cause of the crash.

"I'm not just trying to mitigate your guilt," he insisted, practically picking the words out of my head.

"Mind reader," I accused.

"I mean it." Edward was losing his polite tone. I'd found I had that affect on him. "Think about it, Bella. Until you arrived on this island, had you ever exhibited any extrasensory abilities? Ever experienced an unexplained event?"

"You mean did planes fall out of the sky if I wandered too close to an airport? Did I wreak havoc on small appliances and crispy fry my boyfriends?"

Edward narrowed his eyes at me admonishingly. Whatever. He was the one asking stupid questions that he already knew the answers to.

"So then why, when you've lived the last several years of your life without incident or any appearance of your abilities, would you suddenly cause such an event?"

"Edward," I sighed in exasperation, "I'm only half awake and even less lucid. Please, just speak plainly and say what's on your mind."

"I believe someone on that plane triggered you with the express purpose of bringing down the plane. However they managed it, I think they had intimate knowledge of your dormant talents and instigated a reflexive response from you. Like the way you repelled me in the jungle and on the beach, the radio, and—"

"Going all electric chair on the ridge?"

"Yes," Edward replied, though he didn't look to appreciate my colorful choice of words.

"Emmett and Alice said the plane lost power and it felt like we were hit by something." I paused, trying in vain to search my recollection once again, but I still came up empty. There was just a hole in my memory. "But even before that," I recalled, "the plane diverted course because we lost radio communication with Honolulu."

"All the more reason to believe that someone else was involved. Maybe the radio was tampered with before takeoff. If the program wanted to bring you back into the fold, they'd have to cause an accident. It would raise too many questions if they just picked you up off the street. Instead of going to you, they brought you to them."

We were off course by hundreds of miles, making it unlikely that a search party would ever find the wreckage. All presumed dead at sea. Case closed.

"But what if I didn't survive?" I asked when the hole in Edward's logic emerged. "There's no way they could have known for certain that I'd make it out of the crash when so many others didn't."

"Isn't there?" He asked expectantly. "I came here with the very same assumption."

"Your sister?"

"Someone like her," he was quick to clarify. "If the program has the aid of a psychic, they could have run through thousands of scenarios until they arrived at the decision with a greatest chance for success. All they had to do was get you in the right place at the right time."

Edward cast a meaningful glance in my direction. Unsettled, I diverted my gaze to survey the darkening jungle. The day was drifting into late afternoon. As I observed they graying hue to the shafts of light peeking through the canopy, I noted we were going to experience a storm soon.

"Bella," Edward's serious tone begged my acknowledgement. "Why did you go to Australia?"

Angela and I had agonized for months leading up to graduation over where we'd go for our celebratory excursion. We'd both been saving money all year for our trip. When Charlie and Renee surprised me with an early birthday/graduation gift of a big check, our options expanded considerably. We were thinking maybe New York or California. With the extra cash in our pockets, we started looking at Europe. I suggested Bavaria or Prague. Angela was dreaming of Paris. Instead, it was a chance encounter that shifted our focus.

"There was a table set up in the student union one day. I guess they'd been there for a few weeks leading up to summer break. They were offering student discounts on tour packages to Australia. At first, we thought it would be way out of our budget, but then they explained that for the price of three or four days in Paris, this company could book us a package for six days in Sydney."

We figured, hey, when would we get another opportunity to see Australia? The opportunity was too good to pass up. Too good to be true, in fact.

"I was right," I muttered. "I never had a chance."

"No, Bella. I don't think you did. They were patient enough to wait for the perfect circumstances to manipulate events to their design."

"Why me?" What was so damn special that they'd go through all the trouble just to recapture a girl who couldn't even control whatever lame excuse for a super power she had?

"Because you have the potential to be stronger than all of, Bella. You could encompass all of our talents in one mind, giving them unlimited access to the full breadth of the human capacity in one test subject. The possibilities are endless."

"No," I argued as the idea dawned on me. "You said it earlier; I'm the only one who can sense others like us. Sure, they get their lab rat back, but what they really get is a scout. A recruiter." I finally landed my gaze back on Edward. "The two of us together could identify and coerce news subjects without the need for hospitals and official channels. You could make them come willingly, if you wanted to, right?"

Edward nodded without a word.

"And I could literally point them out on the street, in a sports stadium or at school. Just point and shoot. Easy," I remarked acidly. "All they'd have to do is wipe our memories to get our complicity. You said they encouraged me to use my abilities once they realized what I could do. They could train me again, recondition me to sense the energy signatures more acutely."

"You still sense me," Edward stated sadly.

"Maybe I never forgot you. But really, Edward, what I feel coming off of you is pretty hard to ignore. For whatever that's worth." I paused when both heard the telling sound of thunder in the distance. "They have a psychic," I repeated. "They know we plan to come for them. That we'll fight."

"And that's the part I'm worried about. Getting us here wasn't their endgame. They'd have hunted us down by now. You're out in the open on that beach. Whatever their intentions, I think they're going to let us walk right in."

"You've been up there listening," I answered, referring to the overlook point on the ridge.

"Yes. And the men we want aren't there yet. If they knew I would follow you here, they knew well enough to stay away as long as possible. The people inside the compound are preparing for us, but they don't know why."

I dropped my eyes from his, feeling no less disgusted with myself for all his attempts. "It doesn't change anything," I stated empathically. "I still killed those people. So many."

"You were the bullet, Bella. Not the gun. Not the hand that wielded it."

"I wish I could believe that." I pulled away, passing him to trudge through the jungle. It began to rain, pouring out misery that slowly soaked through my clothes and made muddy the ground under my feet. Again I lost myself in my walking dreams of gore and mayhem as Edward followed silently behind me. To where, I didn't care. One step at a time.

They knew we were here, on the island. If Edward's assertion was correct, they were the puppet masters pulling the strings. They were the wizards behind curtains. We just didn't know their endgame.

Dorothy had killed. She'd been an unwitting murderer with her arrival in OZ. Except the Kansas girl who dropped a house on a wicked witch was hailed as a hero for releasing the oppressed people from their dictator. I'd done no such great service. More accurately, I'd arrived with a devastating tornado to rip the town from its foundation and lay bare their land. Then, just to ensure maximum destruction, I'd burned all remaining remnants of their civilization to the ground, killing indiscriminately

But a question still remained: Why did they orchestrate our arrival? For Edward, perhaps it was just reacquisition of their lost property. He'd escaped with his sister, and so it was reasonable to assume they wanted him back. Was I only a means to an end, or was there a greater purpose for my reintroduction to the program? Had they known where I was all along, tucked away for safe keeping until the day I proved useful? Or had the program been searching for me just as Edward scoured the globe? Too many unknowns.

xXx

"If you're not ready to go back to the beach," Edward stated, "there's somewhere else I can take you. I have shelter. A bunker, actually."

I glanced up at Edward, both relieved for the offer and curious. We'd been hiking for a couple hours in relative silence. I was more interested in the sound of the rain than delving any further into new secrets. The storm had been strong, slowing our pace, but I'd barely paid much attention to the passing scenery that had become awash in a gray curtain over the green background. Though the deluge had ceased now, the falling sun offered little warmth to dry my clothes and evaporate the moisture that still clung to every surface and crevice.

"How long have you been here?"

"Eighty-five days."

I stumbled over a protruding tree root, launching forward before Edward caught my arm and righted my footing. "Thanks," I muttered. "You've just been sitting here waiting for me this whole time? They let you?"

"Where would I go? Stuck on this island is just as good as in a cell."

True. Edward had told me we'd never make it off the island in a rescue attempt without shutting down the compound first. I had to assume that meant they had eyes everywhere.

"Timing was one unknown variable, but the hardest part was finding the right island. When my sister had her first vision more than a year ago, all we had to go on was the vague idea that it was somewhere in the Pacific."

"That's not very helpful."

"No," he agreed, his tone carrying with it just a hint of the exhaustive process that had brought him here. "We conducted months of research to try and narrow our possibilities. Along the way, she saw a little more with each vision. A partial tail number and colors on the plane gave us the airline. Six months ago, she saw the compound. By that time, I'd read quite a bit about decommissioned naval outposts that were used during World War II throughout Polynesia. After that, it was relatively simple to dig up an archival photo that she identified as the right place. This island was in use through most of the 1970s."

I suspect the program simply bought out the rights to the facility through a public shell company and moved in. But at the time, we never suspected what we'd find here. My sister was certain that the day was getting closer, so I was content to come here and wait. It was the best and only lead we'd had in a year. I wasn't about to waste it. Not until I chartered the boat that brought me here did a man at the harbor mention regular supply shipments that sailed to this location every month. With that, I had no doubt that the Volutri had set up shop again."

"And you came anyway, knowing you might never leave."

"It never occurred to me not to."

The conviction with which Edward declared his determination and loyalty to me, a girl with no recollection of the man who was once her best friend, only further intensified my feeling of unworthiness.

"Why?" I asked ardently. "What makes me so deserving of your sacrifice? You believe we're walking into a trap, and so do I. What about the person you remember would inspire you to spend half your life looking for me, even if that means we're both captured again?"

Edward stopped, reaching out to take my hand in his. I was riveted to his brilliant green stare. His expression was soft compassion on hard male features. That familiar warm hum began to rush through me, originating as warmth between our clasped palms.

"Every memory I have of you is a reason," he answered tenderly. "I can't possibly describe adequately the anger and fear I felt in the first years that we were in the program. I was slow to adjust to my abilities. I hated my talent. Despite the fact that all of us possessed unique gifts, I was an outcast. When people know you're privy to their every personal thought, you tend to become a pariah, shunned. Aside from my sister, you were the one person who showed me any kindness."

Edward's lips twisted in a reluctant smile, a sign of a recalled memory pushing itself for the forefront. "You started more than a few fights over me. Even the program was not without bullies. But you, little bird, never took shit from anyone. I admired you." He took a step closer, pushing bank wet and tangled strands of hair from my face. "And I've lived with my fair share of guilt," he admitted humbly. "I'm the one who convinced you to leave with the doctor that night. Whatever happened to you after we said our last goodbye, I've never forgiven myself for losing you. If you'd both escaped as planned, I could have lived with that. But after you were caught..."

"I don't blame you," I insisted. "I mean, I guess I can't if I don't remember, but I don't think I would even then. Whoever Charlie and Renee really are, I've had a good life. I've had friends and parents that loved me. I've had fun," I shrugged, trying to placate Edward. The last seven years of my life hadn't been perfect, but as growing up through the teenage years goes, I thought I had it pretty easy. "You gave me that. However this turns out, I want you to know that I'm grateful to you, Edward. I always will be."

Even with the lingering uncertainty over Renee and Charlie, I still loved them. My heart still believed them to be my parents, regardless of what my mind feared. And come what may, they'd been good and kind people.

"You don't know how much that means to me," he replied in a low, solemn tone. "That you've had a happy life." I reached out and wrapped my arms around Edward's waist, pressing my cheek to his damp chest. He held me close, tightly binding my shoulders and cradling my head. "What do you want to do?" He asked, moving us back to the decision at hand.

Reluctantly, I released Edward to ponder that question. On the one hand, I felt ill when thinking about how I'd face the others at the beach, now knowing that I was the tool used to cause the crash that killed so many. Hiding out with Edward in his post-WWII bunker to plot our overthrow of the evil empire seemed like a good way to play coward. Easy. Edward was, after all, offering me a judgment-free zone where we could both pretend it hadn't happened. As enticing as that option was, the taste it left in my mouth was even worse.

"I have to go back to the beach," I stated confidently. "The Volturi have left us alone for now, but what happens to the others when this all goes down? There's been enough collateral damage." I had no clue as to how I might prevent any further suffering for the innocent people on the beach, but I had to try.

* * *

**End Notes:** So…very uncomfortable conversations waiting at camp. Should Edward and Bella confess that she was used to cause the crash? What might have triggered her, another telepath? Did he/she survive the crash? Where the hell are James and Vic? Am I asking too many questions or not enough? What time is dinner? Bueller?


	18. Chapter 18

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

**Chapter 18**

**Day 3 - Night**

**14 Survivors (+1)**

I held up the small flashlight Emmett had packed for me while Edward rifled through a duffel bag shoved in the corner of what constituted his home for the last couple of months. The bunker wasn't much more than a concrete room smaller than my bedroom in the tiny apartment I shared with Angela. If I'd entertained the idea that maybe we should invite the others to relocate to this shelter—at least we'd be indoors—that notion was squashed when I noted the insufficient space to fit fourteen people.

"Here it is." Edward stood and revealed his transceiver radio, not too unlike the one I'd damaged. I shined the light on the device Edward held, easily noticing the similar size but dissimilar arrangement of dials and the keypad. "It isn't exactly the same, but I think it will be passable."

"The others never got a good look at ours, but Jake was with me when I found it. Jasper spent hours trying to get a signal," I explained. "He'll definitely notice the difference."

"We'll try to keep it away from him," Edward replied as he took the broken radio from the plane and stashed it in the duffel bag on the floor. He deposited the replacement in my backpack. "If Jasper does notice or become suspicious, I'll handle it."

"Use your Jedi mind trick?" I wasn't sure if he saw my sarcastic smirk in the minimal light that spilled from the little flashlight.

"If it comes to that," he agreed hesitantly. I'd gotten the impression through our conversations that Edward wasn't especially fond of his more manipulative abilities. I'd go far as to say he resented himself.

With nothing left for us here, Edward escorted me back upstairs and then carefully covered the hatch with leafy branches and other foliage. I was not looking forward to our next mission, but it was necessary. Before returning to the beach, we'd perform an act of charity; a small gesture that might go a short way to gaining favor and mitigating suspicion.

xXx

Considering all that I'd learned today—I desperately wished I could simply erase the knowledge and forget Edward's revelations—I half expected the mood on the beach to reflect my own bitter disappointment and pessimism. When Edward and I emerged from the tree line and our feet sank into the soft sand, I was surprised by the sound of laughter and the generally jovial atmosphere around the campfire. With the setting sun over the ocean at their backs, our fellow castaways were ecstatically crowding around Emmett and Garrett.

"What's going on?" I looked to Edward as we made our way toward the others. A brief moment of panic gripped me as I saw Emmett wielding a bloody knife in one hand.

"Dinner," Edward grinned. "Emmett and Garrett caught a wild boar."

And just like that, if only for a very fleeting moment, all other concerns were forgotten. We had meat. My stomach clenched with excitement and hunger. Sure, we had enough food to survive, but iron and protein cooked over an open flame were just as good as a choice rib eye steak, considering our circumstances. I darted toward the group at a dead sprint.

"Hey, you're back." Emmett smiled excitedly when I came up beside him to gawk at the filleted pieces of meat roasting on a spit over the fire. "Check it out," he stated proudly, indicating his catch.

"This is amazing." I stared up into Emmett's dark eyes, seeing the dirt smeared on one side of his face and mud that still clung to his shirt. "How did you find it?"

"This ornery fucker tore ass through camp a few hours ago," he replied. "Ransacked a couple of the shelters, tossed up some of the luggage and stuff."

"Was anyone hurt?" I glanced around, finding only happy faces eagerly awaiting their meal.

"No," Garrett answered me as he cleaned one of Emmett's knives. "He gave us a hell of a time running through the jungle, but we managed to get him cornered after a good hour or so. Peter was a huge help." He gave a nod to the widower who was sitting near Carlisle.

"Thank you," I replied gratefully. "I can't even…wow. I'm impressed."

"Don't feed his ego," Rose cut in. She'd snuck up behind me and instantly put me on alert. "Emmett's already high on himself. Next he'll be beating his chest and dragging a club." She shot Edward and I a scathing glance.

"Rosalie," Edward greeted her politely. They hadn't been formally introduced, but the time for that had passed. "Bella insisted that we visit the cockpit again today. I believe this belongs to you." He held out his hand, displaying the inhaler to Rose's widening eyes.

"How—" She swiped it from Edward's open palm, inspecting it and then us.

"You mentioned it was in the forward cabin," I explained. "Edward offered to look for it."

"I found it in one of the flight crew storage compartments, along with your purse." Edward opened his backpack, pulling out the black leather satchel.

Rose accepted the peace-offering with a skeptical glare. Even so, there was a touch of softness to her expression. Maybe she was just too tired to fight this evening. Perhaps the promise of a cooked meal was enough to improve her mood. Either way, Rose forced a smile and a curt response. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Edward nodded before Rose turned and left us.

"Where are Jasper and Jake?" Emmett asked as he pulled off his dirty shirt and discarded it at his feet. He looked every bit a man who'd wrestled a beast with his bare hands, even if that wasn't exactly how the event had transpired.

"They're not back yet?" I reflexively looked to Edward for answers. "We separated this morning. They went to resume the search for a water source while Edward and I hiked the ridge to try the radio."

"Did it work?" Laurent asked. The stark white of his eyes was bright against midnight skin as the light from the fire flickered over his features. "Were you able to find a signal?"

I let Edward handle the fabricated explanation. I didn't trust my ability to hold it together and look convincing.

"We were able to broadcast a distress call, but we still haven't found a responsive frequency. It was only our first attempt," he added encouragingly to the attentive audience listening in. "But the fact that we got a signal and can broadcast is a good sign. It is only a matter of time until we find a channel with someone on the other end." Expectedly, Edward was a convincing liar.

"That's great news," Tanya exclaimed next to Irina. The blonde women beamed at Garrett as they cut up pieces of fruit and piled the chopped morsels into a halved coconut shell. "That means someone will come for us, right? It will be soon."

I detected a note of desperation under her jovial tone. She was putting up the effort to stay positive. Edward and I each gave her varying versions of noncommittal smiles. It was the best we could offer.

"If the guys don't want their meat well done, they better get back soon," Emmett announced. "We're celebrating tonight."

"Still no sign of James and Victoria?" I looked around the group to blank expressions.

"They know where to find us if they want to come back," Garrett replied. "They're adults, if they want to take their chances alone, that's their right."

xXx

I excused myself from Edward and the others to gather a change of clothes and head down the beach to my designated bathing area. Though the sun had mostly fallen below the horizon, there was sufficient light to illuminate the path I'd nearly memorized as I crept around the outcropping of rocks and strolled down the shore several yards. I made quick work of my nightly routine, eager to get back to the waiting meal. As I finished dressing in fresh clothes, I heard the approaching footsteps. I glanced up, expecting Edward or Jacob, but it was Alice who greeted me.

"Hey," I smiled as I packed away my used toiletries and gathered my wet clothes. Alice sort of skewed her lips to one side. It wasn't quite a smile or frown, more like a sign of deep thought or deliberation. "Everything okay?"

"Edward thinks it's a bad idea, but I thought you and I should have this conversation alone." Alice gracefully sank to the sand, crossing her legs and looking up at me expectantly.

I puzzled over her statement for a moment before joining her. "Okay," I began warily. "What's up?"

"He's my brother," she stated succinctly.

I stared at her blankly, too exhausted to formulate a response with more than one syllable. When I opened my mouth to try to force out something intelligible, she held up her hand and shook her head.

"Trust me, this goes faster if I talk and you listen." Alice was all business, a woman who would not be deterred. "Edward had to be sure. He took a risk exposing himself to you without knowing what the Volturi might have done during the re-education process," she told me. "There was always the chance that you'd be on their side."

It had never occurred to me that Edward and Alice might have perceived me as a threat. Edward's initial attempt to penetrate my mind the first night now made more sense. Clearly I'd passed the test.

"I've spent the last three months scanning the airport for you, waiting for the right flight. I held out hope that I'd get to you in time. That maybe I'd see something helpful that could have avoided all of this."

"You—"

"Yes," she answered before I was even certain of my question. "I swear, Bella, I didn't know how the plane was supposed to crash. I saw you waiting in line to board and I made the decision to stop you. I was going drag you out of the terminal kicking and screaming if I had to. But even after making the choice, the vision only altered slightly. No matter what I decided, you'd still crash on this island. I hadn't heard from Edward since he left port, so I did the only thing I could and got on the plane with you."

"How—"

"I don't know," Alice interrupted again. That was getting annoying very quickly. "From what I saw, you were just sitting there. One minute there's a little turbulence and the next it felt like the plane had been broadsided. We lost all power and just started falling."

"Edward said someone triggered me," I pushed. I just couldn't accept that neither Alice nor Edward knew anymore than that. It was all speculation and theory. I wanted answers.

"Do you remember interacting with anyone?" Alice raised her thin eyebrows hopefully as she searched my face. "Can you recall anything unusual that happened before we lost power?"

"I don't even remember that much," I answered in frustration. I buried my head in my hands, tugging my hair at the roots. "Emmett helped to stow my luggage when I first got on the plane. I was sitting next to Jake and we chatted for a while. I fell asleep while we were watching a movie on my iPad. I woke up during the turbulence and noticed when we changed course, but that's it. That's the last thing I remember before waking up on the beach."

I felt Alice's hand rest on my shoulder, rubbing the taut muscle. "It's okay, Bella. We're going to figure it out. It wasn't your fault."

"You sound like him," I scoffed.

"When a driver hits another car and kills the passengers, should his passenger share the blame?" Alice countered with another analogy meant to ease my guilt.

"I'm not sure that's applicable to this case," I dismissed her comment quickly. "I'm more like the alcohol in the drunk diver's stomach. Or maybe I'm the car. A general who send his solider into battle doesn't fire that shot that kills them, but he does accept responsibility for putting them there."

"I think once we figure out how it was done, you'll understand better that your undeserving of the culpability," Alice replied.

"Why did you only see the crash?" I asked as I lifted my head and studied the transition in Alice's expression. "Edward said you've been looking for me for years. Why now?"

"I don't know," she confessed. "I used to have visions involving you frequently when we were in the program together. After you left, they just stopped. The only thing I can guess is that your ability precludes me from seeing your future. Because Edward and I would be here on the island with you, I was able to catch a glimpse."

"That poses an interesting paradox, doesn't it?" I leaned back on my flat palms, feeling the coarse texture of the sand as my fingers sank deeper into the porous ground. I looked out toward the water, absorbing the last of the dark purple and pink light as the sun finally settled below the horizon. "You had the vision of the crash because you would be on the plane, but you didn't make the decision to get on the plane until you saw me boarding."

Alice leaned toward me, resting her elbows on her bent knees. "I'm sorry we lied to you," she acknowledged. "Well…omitted."

"I get it," I assured her. "Small doses. Telling me everything all at once would have been hard to handle. I'm not sure I'm dealing all that well as it is."

"I can't imagine how I'd feel in your place, Bella. Whatever you're experiencing, I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit. I mean, you haven't completely jumped off the deep end."

"No," I smirked ruefully. "Not completely." Maybe I was still circling the perimeter. "I guess I had a feeling it was you," I told her as I studied her delicate features and wide brown eyes. "Edward shared a memory with me of the three of us. We were so young. I didn't recognize you. But since then, I think I subconsciously expected that little girl to be you."

"Come on." Alice abruptly stood, yanking me up with her. "The food's ready."

Despite the heaviness of our conversation, Alice seemed in a chipper mood now that the psychic was out of the bag. She helped me gather my clothes and bag and then wrapped her arm through mine as she escorted us back to the campfire.

"Oh," Alice added when we approached the bend around the outcropping of rocks, "and I've moved your stuff to my shelter." I raised an eyebrow, to which Alice smiled knowingly. "You're welcome," she shrugged.

xXx

"Okay, okay," Emmett stood and gestured for everyone to quiet down as we finished off the last of our meal. "The doc said it won't kill us to imbibe a little on full stomachs, so I propose a toast."

"Everything in moderation," Carlisle added. "As long we all drink plenty of water tonight."

Emmett bent down and passed Garrett a bag. "There are enough for everyone to take one," he instructed. "Pass it down."

Garrett pulled out a mini liquor bottle, followed my Tanya and Irina. Around our circle rimming the campfire, faces perked up at the idea of indulging a bit. We wouldn't catch much of a buzz off the airline-sized bottles, but it was the best we had as far as treats went.

Perhaps it made me an awful person to take part in the festivities with those whose lives I'd altered so terribly, but the light atmosphere was too infectious. We'd survived three days out here. And one way or another, Edward, Alice and I would get these people off the island soon. We had too.

"To full bellies," Emmett raised his bottle.

"To those we've lost," Carlisle added solemnly.

"To family," Peter stated beside him.

"To the people waiting at home," Laurent answered.

"To reunions," Edward whispered in my ear as he touched the rounded edge of his bottle to mine discreetly. I hated vodka, so I'd switched with him for rum instead. Alice winked from my other side. "To patience."

"To the fucking FAA," Rose remarked sarcastically, which got a little laugh out of the group.

"To a hot shower," Irina quipped longingly.

"To air conditioning," Garrett answered in kind.

"And to getting the hell off this island," Tanya announced loudly. At that, we all cheered and threw back a petite swig.

For some time, our group of strangers shared a welcome night of levity. We traded innocuous stories, talked a little about home, and generally enjoyed the brief distraction from our troubles. We were likely an hour or so into our post-meal conversation when discussion turned to remembrance.

"Though I miss her terribly, I'm grateful for the time we had together," Carlisle spoke of Esme. "Three years ago she was given only six months to live. A brain tumor had metastasized to the point that her physician believed treatment or surgery would be futile. I consulted with colleagues who all returned the same grim diagnosis." He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his bent legs with his fingers steepled under his chin. "Since that day, every second has been a blessing."

"Charlotte was a paranoid schizophrenic," Peter announced softly. He stared at the ground, picking apart dead leaves that littered the area around our fire pit. "She was receiving therapy. She really was getting better. I mean, she hadn't had an episode in almost eight months since she started taking the medication. We moved to Australia for her treatment program. A few days ago we showed up for her appointment and the place was just vacant, like they'd packed up and left overnight without a word." He sighed heavily, flicking away the bits of dried leaves between his fingers. "I think that's what really set her off. She'd lost hope."

Carlisle was staring at Peter's profile with an odd expression. Likewise, Edward appeared riveted to the man. Abruptly, Edward turned his attention behind us, stiffening as he spared a surreptitious glance toward Alice and I.

"Hey," Emmett's loud exclamation startled me from assessing the strange shift in our circle, "we were wondering if you two were coming back. The food—"

Emmett swallowed his words. Behind me, Jake and Jasper were just emerging from the jungle. They were both covered in dirt and dried mud, but it was the stark expression of their faces when they came within the light of the fire that made my breath catch in my throat.

"What's wrong?" Emmett asked, obviously seeing the same signs. "You two look like shit."

"Has James returned?" Jasper asked in a rough but controlled tone. Jacob took a hard look at Edward and I, his brow furrowed.

"No." Carlisle stood, coming around the circle and closer to us. "Has something happened?"

"Victoria is dead," Jasper answered matter-of-factly. The bombshell was dropped with all the detachment of a trained officer. "We found her body a couple of miles inland on our way back," he elaborated.

"How?" Carlisle was quick to ask.

"Broken neck. No defensive wounds or other signs of injury. She either knew her attacker," Jasper stated pointedly, "or she was taken by surprise without time to fight back."

"She'd been there for a while," Jake added. He brought his eyes to Carlisle. "Given the rain and humidity, maybe two days. She might have been dead this entire time."

"And James is still running around out there," Emmett answered darkly. His fists were bunched at his sides, his biceps twitching like the muscle in his jaw.

"Maybe she fell," Irina offered meekly. "It could have been an accident."

"So he just left her there?" Emmett asked incredulously.

"We don't know anything for certain," Carlisle interjected with a hand on Emmett's shoulder. "Perhaps we shouldn't jump to the worst conclusion. If it was an accident," he stated softly, "James could fear just such accusations. That might explain why he hasn't returned."

"Just the same," Jasper stated with authority, "no one should leave the area of the camp alone. For that matter, one of us, "he glanced at the men, "should accompany the women—"

"I don't need a damn potty pal," Rose remarked. "Give me a knife and I'll cut that fucker's right nut off if he so much as breathes in my direction."

"Rosie, please." Emmett turned, softening his expression as he tried to reason with her. "I think we all have a healthy fear of your temper, but there is safety in numbers, okay? If it makes you feel better, you can be my body-guard and I'll be the hapless damsel in distress."

Though her eyes narrowed with irritation, she gave in reluctantly. "Whatever."

"We'll take turns keeping watch tonight," Jasper ordered.

"You might want this back." Emmett reached into his back pocket, tossing Jasper the loaded pistol clip.

xXx

We dispersed shortly after the news of Victoria's death; most of our group returning to their shelters while Jacob offered to take the first watch. I avoided making eye contact with Jake as Edward, Alice, and I slipped away from the others. Again we retreated to the relative privacy on the far side of the beach.

"Jasper's account of the events was accurate," Edward stated when the three of us were settled in the sand at the edge of the incoming tide. "Her body had certainly been there for more than a day. What can you tell me about James?"

"Not much," I answered. "The only time I really spent with him was the first time we went into the jungle." I remembered his crass comments and rude taunting that had initially set Jake off. "He and Jacob got into an argument," I explained. "Jake was probably going to slug him, but Jasper pulled a knife on him. From James' perspective, it was probably self-defense. Jasper threatened him and he and Victoria took off."

"He didn't talk much the first night," Alice added. "He put everyone off somewhat—just something about his attitude—but not in a threatening or especially dangerous way."

"When Victoria went after him, she said he wouldn't hurt anyone. I got the impression he was just a big talker. If anything, I think he was picking on Jake for a laugh. He's an asshole," I stated honestly, "I don't know if that makes him a murderer."

"Edward, you heard something while Peter was talking," Alice accused. "What was it?"

"Carlisle," he answered with brow furrowed. "He identified with Peter's story. Specifically the treatment facility. Emmett sidetracked his attention, but I think Carlisle and Esme were in Australia to visit the same facility. I don't know," he sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Maybe it's nothing. But both men felt a sense of betrayal. Peter and Charlotte sank every dime they had into her therapy. He's going home broke, but as long as she was getting better, he figured it was worth it."

"Say it," I demanded when Edward and Alice shared a pointed glance. They were anything but sneaky about it.

"It's not outside the realm of possibility," Alice conceded. "The Volturi have to raise money somehow. The public face of the organization has always been legitimate medical research. Especially in matters of the brain."

"Irina was recently diagnosed with Fahr's disease," Edward continued. "At the very least, there is a thread of commonality between the three."

I dropped my eyes to the sand, drawing unseen patterns in the dark. "Would the Volturi have a reason to kill Victoria, or James for that matter? For all we know, he's dead, too."

"I can't see a reason they'd target those two when Jasper and Jacob have spent just as much time away from the beach." Edward sat back, exhaling deeply. "The fact that James' body wasn't found with Victoria suggests that either he is still alive or they were separated. Either way, it isn't helpful information."

"We don't know if James is a threat," Alice said, "and unless he wanders back to the beach, we might never find out what really happened." She straightened her posture, pointing a serious look at Edward and I. "What we should be concentrating on is discovering Jacob's interest in Bella."

"Agreed," Edward answered. "If you're up for it," he stated as he closed his hand around mine, "I need you to get him talking. It will be easier for me to pick through his thoughts if you can steer him toward the relevant topics. Get him to talk about your home town, people you have in common, what he does for a living—anything he might be inclined to lie about if, like we suspect, he's fabricated your shared association."

"I can do that," I nodded, tightening my grip on Edward's hand.

He looked to his sister, not even voicing the question before she answered him. "Three days," Alice stated. "Maybe four. The specifics keep changing, but they are coming soon."

"Who?" I asked

"The brothers," Edward answered me with unconcealed hatred. "The men we want."


	19. Chapter 19

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

**Chapter 19**

**Day 3 - Night**

**13 Survivors (+1)**

Alice and Edward made themselves scarce as I settled near the fire under the pretense of drying my soggy shoes. Jake and I watched each other from opposite sides of the roaring pit with furtive glances while I pulled a comb through my tangled hair. The fact that he didn't immediately greet me or speak at all meant the dynamic between us had shifted—on his part and mine.

Jacob idly poked at the fire with a broken branch, stoking the flames and sending smoke billowing higher into the night. His long legs we bent in front of his, his broad shoulders hunched toward the heat of the fire. Jasper's loaded sidearm sat blatantly on his lap.

The camp was quiet; the others had retreated to their shelters for the night with full bellies and jostled nerves. I accepted that there would be no easy night's sleep for us so long as we remained on the island. Every night we'd spent here had brought with it death and dismay.

"How did it go with New Guy?" Jake didn't look up, tossing the question out as though he were thoroughly disinterested in the answer.

"You know his name." I eyed Jake across the fire, still dragging the comb through my hair. Jake shrugged, dismissing my admonishment. "It went fine. We broadcast a distress call for a few minutes before shutting the radio off to conserve battery." Actually, that sounded pretty convincing.

"But no response?" he asked without anticipation. He already knew the answer.

"No. Not yet."

"So what's Ted's story?" Jack, since we were being childish, continued to stab at the blackened tinder on the bottom of the fire.

"Edward," I emphasized his name, "is from Chicago." It wasn't a lie and would suffice enough, I thought. After all, it wouldn't do to stir up more suspicion by playing overly coy.

"Is that it? What does Ned do for a living?" He lazily looked up when I sat silent for too long, scowling at Jack's stupid game.

"I don't know." Look for me.

"You two seemed pretty chummy," Jacob replied leadingly. "You can't tell me you spent the entire day alone together and didn't talk at all."

Why was I the one on trial? This discussion veered too far from my intentions. "We both like books," I answered defensively. "We talked about literature." At some point, we had. Again, it wasn't entirely a lie. But really, what did that matter anymore?

"Sounds fascinating," he answered sarcastically. "I should thank you for sparing me hours of dull conversation."

"You weren't missed."

Jacob raised one eyebrow, smirking at my rude reply. "Apparently not. I saw you moved your stuff out of our shelter."

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing," he shook his head, amused.

"Alice moved it to her shelter." Why I felt the need to defend myself and set the record straight to a man that had likely been lying to me, I don't know. "I just think it's better this way."

"You don't trust me," he replied, appraising me carefully.

"I don't know you." I sat back to draw my legs closer to my chest.

"Not well, no." Jacob leaned forward, pressing on the barrier between us as I retreated further. "But something's changed. You're different."

He had no idea. But what if he did? There was a small possibility—one I preferred to believe even if it was remote—that Jacob and I really did share a past. Maybe I'd been taken from Charlie and Renee as a child and somehow reunited with them. If the daughter they'd lost had no memory of her life, but also no recollection of the intervening years, why would her parents wish to burden a child with such complicated concerns? Perhaps the years of allowing me to believe a fabricated reality was a means of protecting me from a horrible truth I would have been happy to live without.

It was a nice theory.

The more worrisome alternative was that Jacob was a skilled liar. Edward remained certain that Jacob was hiding something. Still convinced of Jake's intent to protect me from whatever perceived threat we encountered, Edward also warned of conflicted loyalties. But to whom? If Jacob's goal were to see me returned to Washington, it would conflict with the Volturi's plot to bring me to this island.

"Why were you in Australia?" I asked him pointedly. Perhaps I'd applied too much emphasis to the question, but it was one for which I wanted an answer. Even a lie would do.

"Great surfing," he answered nonchalantly after a long pause. Knowingly, I smiled. I relaxed my posture and appeared interested. He lied. There weren't any of the usual tells in his eye movement or inflection, but I just knew.

"Did you go alone?"

I stood and then took a seat in the empty airline seat next to Jake. Talking from opposite sides of the fire circle felt cold and adversarial. To encourage him to open up and talk more about himself, I played on the sense of closeness Jacob and I had once shared so easily.

Jacob sat back, appearing to relax as his expression softened. "No, my buddy was on a different flight home."

"Because our flight was overbooked," I nodded. Of course, made perfect sense. How convenient that he'd failed to mention a friend when I'd discussed Angela.

"Would I know him? Does he live in Forks?"

"No, he goes to UDub. He got the deal on the trip from some company advertising in the student union."

Naturally. That would certainly eliminate the question of how Jacob and I, out of a town population of less than four thousand, had found ourselves on the same international vacation.

"How did you two meet? I mean, if you've lived your entire life on the reservation, it must be hard to develop broader social circles."

"You ask a lot of questions," Jake accused with a harmless grin. Either Jacob wasn't the threat I feared him to be, or he was enjoying my attempts to investigate him.

"Maybe I'm trying to get to know you." And if I had to flirt a little to get the answers I needed—answers that spoke to the very core of my identity—I'd do it. I leaned toward him, curling one leg under me to face him fully, and tamped down my reflex to shy away when he moved incrementally closer to reciprocate. "I feel like I'm at a disadvantage." I tilted me head slightly to the side, looking up at him under my lashes. "You know more about me that I do about you." One way or another, I knew that to be true.

"All right," He conceded. "I like football but not baseball."

"I hate fishing," I replied in kind. "I accidentally stuck a hook through my finger when I was eleven. That was the end of that." Or maybe it'd never happened at all. I chose not to dwell on that.

"I've broken every finger on this hand," he said, holding out his calloused right hand. "And my thumb twice on the left." He had a small scar, the skin lighter than the rest of his flesh, from a minor surgery as he explained.

I stretched my right leg out, pulling up my pant leg to expose the two-inch scar above my knee. "I was eight," I told him as I leaned closer to the fire to illuminate the very subtle discoloration from the old wound. "I was playing in our backyard at my mom's house in Phoenix and ran past a small potted palmetto plant. The frond sliced me clean across my leg." When I was smaller, the cut had been gruesome and bled profusely. "And this one," I lifted my left elbow, displaying another puckered scar, "was from shattering my mother's standing mirror."

"You were a hazard to life and limb," he joked casually. His features were soft and friendly, while I worked at not responding with cold rigidity. Those words were all too true and wholly inadequate. "But I'm glad you've survived this long."

I didn't trust my voice to respond, only smiling politely instead. "Tell me about work," I urged him. I had a purpose here, and it wasn't to sidetrack myself with pity and guilt. "Do you like being a mechanic?"

"It's not so bad," he shrugged. "I'd rather work under a hood than sit at a desk. I like taking an old junker on its last legs and making it run like new again. It's tangible, you know? One day the transmission is shot to hell and the whole thing is just a very expensive hunk of metal. When its running again and purring like a kitten, I know I did that."

"You said you were going to school part-time?"

"Yeah, I'm still just taking the general education requirements, but I want to study engineering at some point." His expression took on a sort of wistful look, but I didn't press it. For some reason, I felt compassion for Jake. It was a fleeting, irrational emotion, but I'd experienced it just the same.

Like this, sitting quietly around the warm fire, I remembered why I'd found Jacob to be so inviting in the first place. I wanted to distrust him. I wanted to hate him for his likely deceit, but I couldn't. Whoever he was, the person inside was good. Whether he was a product of his circumstances or poor choices, I didn't believe Jake to be a villain at heart.

We talked for a while longer as I dug into his life; we discussed his classes at Peninsula Community College and other seemingly innocuous topics at length. Through it all, Jake showed no hesitation. Likewise, I didn't suspect he'd fabricated answers. How could he be telling the truth about life in Forks while at the same time lying about his reason for traveling to Australia? The two seemed mutually exclusive, if only because the subterfuge lacked motive. Why would he lie if he were, in fact, the person he claimed to be?

I yawned involuntarily, closing my eyes for a moment. I realized I hadn't been paying attention to Jake's comments as I leaned against the headrest of the airline chair.

"Yeah, I can take a hint. I'm boring."

"No." I pried my eyes open, looking up at Jake's playful expression. "I'm just tired."

"You should sleep. I think it's about time I woke up Emmett to take over the watch."

"Jake," I sat up and appraised him carefully. "Do you think James killed Victoria?"

His features turned hard, stoic. Jacob's black eyes searched mine as he remained silent for several loaded seconds. "No."

"How can you be sure?"

He raised his hand slowly, gently cupping my cheek and slid his thumb along the edge of my jaw. My instinct was to pull away, but I settled my nerves and waited. I'd promised Edward I would get answers. If he were to discover Jacob's motives, I needed to play nice.

"I looked in his eyes," he answered with quiet conviction. "The man doesn't have it in him." Jacob stroked my jaw tenderly with his eyes fixed on mine. "No one is going to hurt you, Bella. You have my word."

I blinked, astonished by the sincerity in his hushed voice. The moment was over and I took the opportunity to remind myself that being an accomplished liar did not make Jacob honest. It also didn't make him my friend. Slowly, I pulled out of his hold.

"Goodnight, Jacob. Thank you." I walked away, not pausing a moment to look back as I felt his eyes on me.

xXx

"You did well," Alice praised with a whisper as I ducked inside our shelter.

While Edward and I had been away from the beach during the day, Emmett and Garrett had built a frame to better enclose three sides of the shelter with the yellow tarp made from the plane's inflatable emergency slides. It was small and still only offered sand and grass as a floor, but at least we were protected from the sun and rain. Only twenty or thirty feet from the fire, Alice's shelter was close to the fire, giving her at least a vantage point to have watched my interaction with Jake.

"I still don't understand him," I said as I plucked my sleeping towel from my backpack and laid it on the ground next to Alice's airplane blanket. "One minute he's cold and withdrawn, the next he's poking fun at me and making jokes. He can be so immature, but also surprisingly confident and…" I didn't know how to describe the strange sense of comfort and protection I felt near Jake. Whatever he was, I wasn't afraid of him. Perhaps that was greatest danger.

Alice crossed her short legs and watched me carefully for a moment. "He doesn't leave the island with us," Alice announced quietly. "I don't know why or what happens to him after that. What I do see, at least for now, is that he does not get on the boat."

"You see us being rescued? We do escape?" Because I hadn't trusted it was a certainty. I chose to believe we'd infiltrate the compound and shut off whatever device prevented us from broadcasting a call to port. I chose to believe in rescue, if only to give myself a reason to fight a little longer.

"I see a boat," Alice clarified cautiously. "You, Edward, and me. I'm inclined to think that it is a good sign, but I can't be certain. I don't want to lie to you, Bella. That's the best I can offer."

"I'll take it," I nodded. The insinuation was that it might not be the boat we want. For all Alice knew, we would be prisoners again. Nevertheless, it was progress. "Will you sleep tonight?"

Alice's eyes slid away from mine as her attention turned toward the black ocean reflecting the moon's vibrant light. "For a little while."

"Has it always been this way?" Not that she was alone in her predicament, but I'd noticed Alice's insomnia.

"No," she shook her head, dislodging whatever musings she'd been considering while staring into the blackness of night. "The visions come whether I'm awake or not, but when I sleep, they're just dreams. I don't want to miss anything," she explained. "Edward is depending on me to see something helpful—to prepare us."

"No one is holding you responsible, Alice." I held her gaze intently, willing her to see my earnest conviction on this point. "Whatever happens to us, no one is going to blame you."

"He's all I have right now," she answered as the space between her brows puckered with concern. "If anything happens to my brother, I'll be alone."

"I won't let that happen," I told her seriously. I'd never meant anything so much in my life. "I promise you."

Alice's eyes turned glassy as she smiled reluctantly. "We've both missed you," she answered softly. "I know you can't appreciate what it means for us to have found you. We're strangers. But Edward and I have regretted that day for so long. I thought that I would be able to keep an eye on you. I'd have visions and, when we got out, Edward and I would find you again. He was crushed when he heard them take you to the re-education center. I've felt guilty for not seeing them catch you."

"Don't do that," I answered her quickly. "You can't take all that blame. We were kids, Alice. A sixteen-year-old girl doesn't deserve to live with that sort of guilt. You've both risked your lives and your freedom to track me down. No matter what happens from here, I'm glad we met again. I only wish I remembered you. I'd like to have those memories."

"You were an awkward kid," she smiled wryly. I laughed, settling down to the ground on my towel and turning to my side to face her. "We were given books to read, since our exposure to anything else from the outside was so limited. Your favorites were fantasy and science fiction, mostly English literature. I think we were seven or eight at the time, but you once spent an entire week insisting that you were a time traveler who had been trapped in the future."

"I love Jules Verne," I nodded. It sounded like something I would do. My imagination had often gotten the better of me.

"So I told you that I was from another planet, hiding amongst the humans to gather knowledge on their race. I offered to help you fix your broken time machine. In exchange, you'd escort me through time to witness the major events in your people's history."

"What did we see?"

Alice settled down on her blanket, looking at me with excitement in her rich brown eyes. "Oh, positively everywhere. We ate cake with Marie Antoinette in Paris. We danced in Cleopatra's palace. We ran along the unfinished path of the Great Wall of China and sang to the stars at Stonehenge."

"And where was you brother in all of this?"

Alice smirked, twisting her lips to one side. "Someone had stay behind and guard the time machine," she laughed.

"Of course," I replied. "How silly of me."

"Get some sleep," Alice insisted. "You've got a big day tomorrow."

"How so?"

"We've got to teach you how to use your superpowers."

xXx

I woke with a start and found myself sitting upright, my heart beating erratically. I quickly looked around me, reminding myself of my surroundings. Alice was gone. I peered out of the shelter toward and fire and saw Emmett sitting close to the flames with Rosalie.

For several seconds, I breathed deeply in an attempt to quiet the remnants of panic I felt coursing through my veins. I knew the disoriented and disquieted feeling well, the one that came after a nightmare that I wouldn't remember. The crawling shiver over my skin didn't abate after my pulse had calmed. My nerves tingled with anxiety that I couldn't properly attribute except for the forgotten visions of my sleep. I prickled in response to every tiny noise emanating from the jungle behind me-the sounds of little nocturnal animals skittering about unseen.

More than ever, my fleeting nightmare unsettled me. If Edward was right, that the dreams were latent memories of my past, I wanted to know them. My mind was guarding secrets from me, riddles that were so crucial to my identity and unraveling my past. I couldn't even rely on myself. Everyone was a stranger to me. I was no one.

And then I knew where I needed to go.

Quietly, I slipped out of the shelter and walked down the beach in the direction opposite the campfire and our night watch. If Emmett did see me, he wouldn't make much of the movement. For one, all of us were prone to restlessness at night. Not one in our group had enjoyed an uninterrupted sleep since the crash. Secondly, Emmett would sooner shake Edward's hand than rat us out if our rendezvous were anything like he'd naturally suspect. The bear-like man was gentle and kind, and though I didn't know him well, I trusted his discretion.

At the end of the row of shelters under yellow canopies, Edward's shelter sat a few dozen yards from the fire. I approached hesitantly. While I was certain of my want to seek out Edward, I questioned the wisdom. Once upon a time, I'd been a girl who snuck into his room at night clutching a worn paperback. He'd spoken of the memories fondly. I was, however, not the same girl. Perhaps Edward wouldn't greet me with the same familiarity and understanding.

I'd almost resolved to turn around and hunt down Alice or join Emmett and Rose by the fire when I heard Edward move.

"Bella?" He leaned out, past the sidewall of tarp. "What's wrong?"

"I…" My eyes fell to my feet. I felt stupid now that I'd gained his attention. I was a grown woman, after all. Why I was running to him? I had never gone padding into Angela's room for company when my nightmares had woken me. I would take a hot bath, read, and settle back against my pillow with the lights on. Stupid girl.

"Come here, little bird." Edward held out his hand, kneeling in the sand before me. "Did you bring me a book to read?"

I shook my head, unable to answer otherwise. My embarrassment rose to stain my cheeks red. At least he couldn't see the color in the blue light of the night. Tentatively, I placed my hand in his. Just the smallest bit of contact eased my anxious energy. Edward's fingers encircled my hand as he coaxed me into the shelter.

"Then we'll have to make due without it," he answered softly.

The warm, undemanding texture of his voice settled me, though I knelt awkwardly next to him as he lay back on the large woven blanket that covered the ground. I recognized the pattern as similar to items I'd seen in tourist gift shops in Sydney; examples—likely cheap knockoffs made in China—of aboriginal tapestries. Edward rested on his side, his elbow bent as he propped his head up on one hand to watch me patiently.

"I had a nightmare." That went without saying, I knew, but I felt the need to interject something into the quiet tension between us. "I'm sorry if I woke you up. I just…I'm anxious. Restless, I guess. But if you're tired," I looked down to his relaxed form prone in front of me, "I can let you sleep."

"I wasn't sleeping, Bella. I've just been listening." He shifted over a few more inches, creating more space between us. "Do you want to lie down?"

Yes. No. And yes again. This was an entirely different experience than my first night on the island with Jacob. For one, I wanted Edward to touch me. I wanted him to take liberties. He'd kissed me, unprovoked, more than once. That had to speak to his desire for me. However, I didn't like the implication that I'd wandered over here in the middle of the night to play. That fear had nothing to do with Edward's attitude and everything to do with my own perception of my actions. What had I come here for?

"Okay." I stretched out on the blanket, turning on my side to face Edward as he studied me. His eyes, shrouded in darkness, met mine without apprehension. "I haven't slept through the night since the crash."

"That's understandable," he answered quietly. "You've suffered more than any one person deserves, Bella. I'm so very sorry for that."

"Don't you start, too." I stared at Edward unflinchingly. This would be the last time I indulged this conversation with him or his sister. "You didn't start this, Edward. You didn't set the events in motion. I don't want to hear any more apologies. If anything, it only compounds my guilt."

"I'm sorry," he said with a crooked smirk. Edward flinched away when I gestured to sock him in the shoulder. "No hitting," he chided me playfully. "And absolutely no pinching." I scowled at his teasing remark, though my lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

"You and Alice used to gang up on me. The two you, together, were merciless. I was afraid to turn a corner in the hallway for fear a dastardly trap had been set."

"A trap, huh?"

"My little trickster of a sister has always been fond of pranks. Add to that your mischievous spirit, and the two of you made a formidable adversary."

"I think you're just making this stuff up," I dismissed. "It isn't nice to poke fun at the amnesia girl."

"Sorry, little bird. You were trouble wrapped in a tiny brunette package. Granted, my traitorous sister encouraged the behavior, but you were always more than willing to be her accomplice."

"Well," I turned my chin defiantly, "what else were we supposed to do for fun in that place?"

"Ah, there it is; that indignant little spark I know so well." Edward's lopsided grip grew wider as his voice took on an amused quality. "I've always thought your petulant tendencies were cute."

"Cute?" I said the word as though I found it offensive. In reality, I enjoyed the idea quite a bit.

"You were never the patient sort," Edward explained. "So it didn't take long for you to tire of the tests and exercises designed to instigate you to display your abilities. More than once, you were rather free with your thoughts, informing the doctors of your preferences for where they could shove their clipboards.

"I did not!" I exclaimed in a loud, flabbergasted whisper. "Now I know you're lying. I might think it, sure, but I'd never say something like that out loud."

"I promise you, Bella. The girl I knew had a sharp tongue and a short temper. You'd earned both, certainly. Alice used escapism as a retreat, I became introverted, and you lashed out."

"I really told someone to shove a clipboard up his ass?" I smiled at the idea of a ruthless, early teen version of myself.

"More or less," he replied with a sly inflection. "The translation loses some of the initial potency."

Edward's V-neck shirt framed his throat enticingly. For some reason, I was mesmerized by watching the movement of the muscles along the long column of his neck. He must have bathed in the ocean at some point during the evening, he smelled like salt water, soap, and something else that was uniquely him.

"What do you mean?" I curled my legs up closer toward my stomach, noticing the way Edward's leg moved fractionally closer to mine as I did so.

"There were consequences for insubordination. Rather than risk punishment, you were most fond of Mandarin when insulting the staff."

"Well now I'm just pissed," I huffed. "It's one thing to steal my memories. It is an entirely different sort of deviousness to make me dumber in the process. I assume I didn't always suck at math?"

"Hey." Edward grabbed my chin, gently gripping me with two fingers. "You are not dumb. In fact…" He trailed off, narrowing his eyes for a moment as he considered his silent thought. "Nǐ shì wǒ yīshēng zhōng yù dào de zuì jīngzhì de shēngwù."

I was certain, beyond any inkling of doubt, that I'd never heard Mandarin Chinese spoken aloud. And yet, as the syllables fell effortlessly from Edward's soft lips, my mind comprehended without deliberation. I stared at him, eyes wide and mouth parted open in astonishment. He read my reaction, pushing himself up on one arm.

"You understood me, Bella. You remember." It wasn't a question. The urgently hopeful expression that absorbed Edward's features ignited excitement within me. "Say something. Don't think about it. Just speak."

"I don't—"

"Zài yèwǎn de tiānkōng shì shénme yánsè de?" He asked, triggering an automatic response. What color is the sky at night?

"Hēisè." Black.

Zài chūntiān de cǎo shì shénme yánsè de?" What color is the grass in spring? He asked immediately, as if reading from a prepared list.

"Lǜsè." Green.

Edward cupped my face between his warm hands, his thumbs stroking me tenderly as he stared at me in wonderment. "My little bird is still in there," he whispered. "You're still my Bella."

"Edward, how—"

"I don't care," he answered quickly. "I haven't dared to hope that we could ever recover your memories. Honestly, it might be cruel of me to try…"

"I want to," I interjected before he began to talk himself out of it. "I want to remember, Edward. Tell me how."

"I don't have an answer for that yet," he admitted regretfully. He dropped one hand from my cheek as the other slid down my neck and this thumb traced the edge of my jaw. I applied effort to not tilting into his decadent touch. "But we can try," he promised. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure," I answered confidently. "I need to know who I am. I need to be someone, because right now, I'm no one."

"You're not," he argued softly. "I know exactly who you are and who you've always been. You're mine. My best friend and my closest confidant for the majority of my life, Bella. No one can erase that."

"Edward," I breathed his name more than spoke it. The air between us was thick and charged. My skin tingled as I became aware of the energy building between us. I'd either set the shelter on fire or eject Edward from the beach entirely. I wanted him to kiss me.

At hearing his name, Edward slowly pulled his hand back and released me. I went cold immediately, the electricity dissipating to a low hum. "Come here," he urged as I stared, dejected. "Lie down, Bella."

I tamped down my disappointment as I moved to settle on my side on the blanket again. Instead, Edward slid his arm under my head and pulled me to rest my cheek to his chest. I froze, surprised by how easily he assumed such an intimate position.

"I've thought about this every night since the last time I held you," he stated quietly.

Edward reached for my hand, bringing it to rest over his vibrantly beating heart. I inhaled deeply and absorbed the warmth of his firm male body under my palm. I wanted to trace the lines of Edward's muscular stomach under his T-shirt and explore him, but my inhibitions stalled me from even moving my lips to answer his remark.

"You let him touch you," Edward accused. I heard the tension in his tight voice. As if to illustrate his point, Edward slid the tips of his fingers along my jaw.

"I…" My throat seized in defense. "I was just trying to—"

"I know why," he interrupted curtly. "And you won't do it again. Not for me and not as a bartering tool for information. You will not trade on your body, Bella."

"I wasn't," I snapped back. The insinuation was insulting.

"You were placating his desire. I won't tolerate it. He isn't to touch you again." I lifted my head from Edward's chest, looking up his rigid expression; his jaw clenched tight at he stared back unflinchingly.

"What gives you the right to dictate to me?" My nerves hummed as my temper simmered. If Edward weren't careful, he'd get a repeat performance of the ridge. The trigger was tangibly within reach. While I couldn't consciously control it, I detected the familiar rising heat through my limbs.

It wasn't as though I wanted to argue the point with Edward. I didn't particularly like the idea of Jake feeling so free to touch me not that his motives were in question. However, being ordered around wasn't a favorite of mine. Childishly, I suppose, I was arguing for the sake of arguing.

Edward narrowed his shadowed eyes. I thought I saw a reply forming, but he seemed to think better of voicing the retort. "He lied about his reason for visiting Australia," Edward answered after a few seconds of silence.

"Yeah," I scoffed arrogantly. "I figured that part out for myself."

"Always so antagonistic," he mused under his breath. Edward gently placed his hand on my shoulder, easing me back down to his chest. I allowed it, relaxing as I felt his warmth meet my cheek. "Not even I could tame you, little bird."

"Best not to try," I answered threateningly. I only half meant it.

"Not a promise I can make." This time, I heard the humor coating Edward's richly soothing voice as he spoke against the top of my head.

"Did to get anything useful? Did I help at all?" If I hadn't, I'd put myself through the ordeal for nothing. I would have led Jacob down a path toward a destination he was not invited.

"You were perfect," Edward replied encouragingly. "I'm still convinced that he has no intention to harm you," he began. I suppose that was the most pressing assurance that we required. "But he has been following you."

"What?" I looked up, panic gripping me as I waited for clarification. "To Australia? For how long?"

"Two years," Edward answered flatly. "Since your junior year of college. What he told you about working as a mechanic is partially accurate. But the memories are from several years ago. Likely he was a teenager at the time. When he speaks about his life in Forks and on the reservation, he's speaking of his past, not his present."

"Why has he been following me? What does he want?"

Edward looked at me sympathetically, his hand running tenderly up and down my arm. "I don't know yet. His mind is…complicated." I furrowed my brow, not understanding his hesitancy. "Most people, when they speak, they think of either the words they use or the words they don't use. Either they're speaking honestly or thinking of the truth behind the spoken lie. There are tertiary details associated with conversation that go unvoiced. Jacob is reciting, not answering spontaneously. He is always thinking of his next practiced line. When he lies, rather than thinking of the truth he is covering, he thinks of odd, random subjects or recites combinations of numbers and letters."

I watched the deliberation play out across Edward's stern features. I searched him studiously, seeking the explanation he'd yet to offer. "Is that possible? Can someone be trained to hide his thoughts from you?"

Edward exhaled a long breath and ran a hand through his untamable hair. "They were experimenting with strategies," he answered in a baleful, low tone. "Numerous attempts ranging from sonic interference to cognitive interruption therapy. The results were mostly fruitless."

"Mostly?"

"Imagine a dog whistle for mind readers. It was annoying and gave me a splitting headache, but it didn't truly mask or block the stream on consciousness. What Jacob is doing, if purposefully, certainly required training and a great degree of mental discipline."

"Then he knows what you are," I replied with alarm.

"No, I don't think so." Edward returned his soothing touch to my back, gently running his fingers up and down my spine. "It isn't me that he suspects. If anything, he's afraid of you." Edward smirked. "He doesn't much like me," he stated with amusement. I continued to look at Edward with a mixture of concern and confusion. "Please don't worry for me, Bella. Jacob may not be a friend, but he could prove an ally of necessity. Whomever his master, I don't believe it to be the Volturi. He views the crash as a tragic accident and an impediment to his goal, but has yet to show any awareness of the compound or Alice's gift. Whatever he wants, it isn't to see you remain here."

"Then his endgame is back in Washington."

"Yes. And I won't let him get that far."


	20. Chapter 20

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

** Chapter 20**

A refreshing breeze penetrated Edward's shelter, coming up the shore from the ocean and cooling my skin against the sultry evening heat. Resting against his chest, I made an effort to remain very still. Though every physical instinct I had begged me to run my fingers over Edward's warm, masculine form, I staved off the impulse.

Since meeting Edward in the jungle for the first time, I'd been well aware of both the physical attraction I had for him, as well as the peculiar lure of his energy. Knowing that I wasn't imagining that energy—he'd explained it as well as could be expected—did little to quell my curiosity. The knowledge did less to stem my reaction to him.

Between us, huddled inside Edward's tiny shelter, was a massive elephant that had been ignored since coming down from the ridge. I'd yet to ask Edward about kissing me—he'd always done so as a demonstration or last resort—and he hadn't broached the subject. The monkey on that elephant's back was the whispered words that had accompanied that last kiss. Edward had said he loved me.

In the moment, I had rejected the sentiment out of rage and overwhelming remorse at learning of my culpability in the crash. However, he hadn't elaborated. I understood that I'd been very close to Edward and Alice during our time in the program together. He'd referred to me as his best friend. Sure, in a way, I loved Angela. She'd been my best—and at times only—friend for six years. Expressing such an emotion was perfectly normal. Except that I was at a severe disadvantage.

Edward had memories and deeply rooted associations to a girl I didn't remember and couldn't be for him, despite how much I wanted our circumstances to be otherwise. I liked the person he spoke of so fondly. I more than liked the crooked grin and sly smiles that his stories of us pulled from his lips. Still, he'd seemed content thus far to completely ignore the obvious.

And so I lay against his chest, unmoving, tangled in knots of curiosity, and struggling against my own impulses.

"Relax, little bird." Edward whispered calmingly.

"I am relaxed," I answered him quickly. Even to my ears, the reply sounded defensive.

"You're breathing now. That's an improvement."

Had I been holding my breath? Likely.

"I would have failed miserably if I came all this way just to let you suffocate in my arms." Edward reached over with one hand and pushed my hair off the side of my neck and back over my shoulder. When his fingertips brushed my skin, my pulse sped. "You're not relaxing," he accused wryly.

I took a deep breath, trying to get myself the hell under control. The endeavor was completely useless as he dragged his fingers down my arm and then back up again in a repetitive motion.

"I can't if you keep doing that," I blurted out. Edward pulled his hand away immediately. "I'm sorry." The swiftness with which he snatched his hand away caused me to flinch, coupled with my own embarrassment. My awkwardness knew no bounds. "I just meant—"

"Is there someone waiting for you in Seattle?" Edward interrupted me, his voice flat and indifferent. I had to pause to ponder that question. Of course there was. I'd explained Charlie and Angela, as well as Renee and her husband Phil in Phoenix. "A man, Bella. You've not mentioned a relationship."

Oh.

"That's because there isn't one." Shyly, I didn't look up as I turned the question around on Edward. "What about you?"

"Traipsing across two continents for nearly a decade doesn't afford for much stability," he answered coolly. "Alice and I have relied on each other, and not much else."

"How did you…live? I mean, I'm having a hard time picturing the two of you working regular jobs during the day and moonlighting as private investigators."

Edward chuckled, pressing his lips to the top of my head. Again, I tensed. If he noticed, he didn't let on. "No, after our experiences in the program, a nine-to-five job wasn't terribly appealing. We needed…space. Freedom."

"So what did you do for money and a place to live?"

Rather than speak, Edward tapped one long finger lightly against my temple. I looked up, seeing the smirk tugging at his lips. "Those who can, do."

"Cheater," I accused playfully.

"We couldn't be so obvious as to play the lotto or anything," he said with amusement. "But there are always ways for enterprising youths to make a few bucks."

"You know I'm starting to think you're a jewel thief or something, right? You're being awfully vague."

Edward mocked a contrite expression, pretending to be offended by my comment. "I'll admit, not all of our methods were explicitly legal after we first escaped from the institute. We had very little and brought less with us when we left. Our only priority at the time was to pass beyond the Italian border into France. We hitchhiked mostly, careful to stay inconspicuous. We snuck onto trains, pickpocketed businessmen in the terminals, and shoplifted a few meals. When we did make it over the border, we swiped a key to a vacant room in small hotel in Nice."

"And after that?"

"Our life wasn't glamorous," Edward answered thoughtfully. "For a time, we barely scraped by. Every day was a struggle to avoid notice, eat, and find somewhere to sleep. Eventually we made it to Paris and took odd jobs for cash under the table. When we had enough, I started gambling."

Edward paused, gauging my reaction. What, was I supposed to take some sort of moral exception to gambling? It wasn't knocking over liquor stores. Sure, he and Alice had an unfair advantage, but they needed to live somehow.

"I'm guessing you did all right?"

"We managed," he nodded, sounding humble. "Got into a few close scrapes with men betting more than they were prepared to lose, but we had a steady place to live, food, and enough money and resources to dedicate time toward looking for you."

"I still can't wrap my head around dedicating so many years to searching. With so little information to go on, didn't you ever just think it was time to give up and let me go?"

"No," he said briskly. Edward sat up, staring intently into my eyes with his penetrating gaze. "Never, Bella. Alice and I were solid on that agreement. If even if you hadn't been our only friend—the closest we had to family—neither of us could have lived with the guilt of not knowing. We made you leave that night," he stated with that same tone of regret, "we had to find out what happened to you. At least to know you were safe."

I sat up, rising closer to Edward's height. "And if I was? If you'd have found me attending college in Seattle, living with Angela, or tracked me down to Charlie's house in Fork, what would you have done?"

Edward lingered, studying me for a long moment as the silence pressed like so many fathoms of ocean against my chest. He swept his fingers over my cheek and through my hair as he held the side of my face in his palm.

"The noble thing, if I'd found you safe and content in your new life, might have been to gift myself a brief glance. I might have bargained that I'd only watch you from a distance and take my fill, then leave you to your happiness. Anything I would have said could only have disrupted your life and hurt you. I already have."

"Edward—" I interjected to correct him, assure him that I didn't regret the revelations he'd given me, but Edward hushed me gently.

"But I'm selfish, Bella. I've thought about the moment I'd finally come within arm's reach of you for so many years. I know now that I wouldn't have possessed the strength to deny myself. I had to touch you," he elaborated in a low, smooth voice that carried a touch of tension. "I had to speak to you. Most of all, I had to make you know me—who we were."

"Who are we?" I asked with a shaky voice.

Edward caressed the side of my face and trailed his fingers to the column of my neck. My skin prickled and my limbs buzzed with electricity as I sat in anticipation, fixated to his features. Curiously, Edward's expression hardened somewhat, a crease forming between his brows.

"Tell me, little bird, did you do as I asked?"

"What?"

"We made a foolish, hopeful promise the night I sent you away. For two adolescents with very little concept of reality but a great appreciation for the oppression of captivity, it was an important pact. And so I'm curious if perhaps just a little bit of me survived the torture they subjected you to."

"I don't understand," I answered nervously.

"Did you wait for me?"

I stared at him blankly, watching him patiently wait for an answer to a question I did not comprehend. Edward threaded his hand into my hair at the nape of my neck, leaning closer until his forehead was pressed to mine and our lips were but a breath apart.

"Have you given your heart to someone else, Bella?" He brought his other hand up to stroke my cheek, tilting my face back. "Have you given your body?"

The way he said the words, the phrase polite and yet erotic, caused my heart to pound voraciously. Edward had to feel my pulse racing at my artery as my breathing sped against his lips.

I hadn't, no. What little could be said about my dating life was nothing exciting or romantic. I was shy in high school, which was the reason Angela and I had gravitated toward each other. We were similar in that way, though she had a small group of friends who had quickly adopted me into their collective. However, being the police chief's daughter had kept the hormonal boys of my school at bay. For that matter, I hadn't developed any particular interest in the few guys of our clique beyond friendship.

College was a bit more eventful, but not by much. My underclassmen years saw a few disastrous dates and fewer pleasant ones, but nobody special. By my junior year at UDub, I was so entrenched in my major that I rarely saw Angela, much less ventured out socially with the male population. All of that equated to a lack of the warm fuzzies and certainly no inclination to hop in the sack. At twenty-three and staring at three more years of academic servitude to my master's degree, I was well on my way to spinsterhood. And dying a virgin.

"Bella?"

I'd been quiet for too long as Edward's pointed question hung between us. I sucked in a hasty breath as I attempted to gather my wits about me. He was, after all, just a man. It wasn't as though Edward would pounce on me, ravaging me like a cheetah after a gazelle. I was not, by any means, still the meek teenager. Perhaps, if Edward's version of me was accurate, I never truly had been.

"No," I answered succinctly.

"Mmm," he purred, "good answer." Without further preamble, Edward fastened his lips against mine with startling force and hastiness.

His kiss was possessive, demanding, and every bit what one would expect from a man who'd been deprived of a woman's taste through his most virile years. His tongue swept across my lower lip, begging entrance, and I succumbed to his request without deliberation. Confidently, Edward leveraged his height over me; stretching up on his knees, and tilted my head back to devour my mouth fully. When Edward's hands slid to my waist, I dug my fingers through his hair and tugged, pulling him closer, deeper.

Edward groaned into my mouth, the sound both one of pleasure but also somewhat tortured. Without premeditating the act, I bit at his lower lip. My audacity seemed to spark something inside him. Suddenly aggressive, Edward pushed me to my back and covered my body with the length of his, our legs tangled together. I gasp when my back hit the ground, allowing a desperately needed gust of air to fill my lungs. Edward attacked my neck, sucking at the sensitive flesh and nipping lightly to ignite my nerves.

That brought to mind our past experiences. I panicked, worried that I'd hurt him with my inability to control myself in the face of powerful stimuli. "Edward, stop."

He froze on top of me, quickly pulling his lips from my neck and hovering over my body by several inches. His face, masked in almost total darkness, looked equal parts alarmed and dejected. That was not my intent at all.

"No," I assured him, "it's not that. I just…I don't' want to, you know, hurt you. I can't control it."

A relieved smile graced his swollen lips and Edward relaxed, lowering himself to brush against my heaving chest. "You wont, Bella. I promise you."

"But I have," I argued. There was no just way I'd survive the trauma if… No. I wasn't even going to think about it. "In the jungle, on the beach, on the ridge—"

"You responded instinctively in kind with your emotions," he asserted softly. "You were frightened when I tried to penetrate your mind in the jungle. You were understandably surprised when I kissed you on the beach."

"And I was pissed as hell on the ridge," I answered for him.

"And are you angry or frightened now, little bird?"

I bit my lip, shaking my head. I'd grown increasingly fond of that nickname. Or perhaps it was just the way Edward said the words.

"Then you won't hurt me," he repeated with such certainty that I dare not contradict him. Besides, he was arguing the more attractive of the two options. He bent his head closer, kissing me softly and he allowed more of his weight to settle against me.

"You said," I mumbled, earning a light chuckle from Edward when the syllables came out garbled between us, "that we made a promise?"

Edward pulled back, seriousness evident in the set of his jaw. "I told you I was selfish. And perhaps I asked for your promise because I wanted to reassure us both that we wouldn't be apart for very long."

"But…"

"I asked you to wait for me. That night, trying to convince you to leave with the doctor, I told you that I'd find you and we'd be together again. Even then, with no guarantee that our reunion would follow quickly, I couldn't stand the idea of you belonging to anyone else. The thought of you warm and soft in another man's arms was too much."

"You know that I'm not her, right?" I averted my eyes, feeling a wave of disappointment fall heavy in my stomach. "You're in love with a memory, Edward. We were teenagers," I tossed out dismissively. Of course, I couldn't believe my own argument. After all, Angela and Ben had been joined at the hip since high school, their love only growing. "You think you're in love with me, but I'm not the girl of your past or even the person you've imagined since then. You're in love with an idea."

"Are you quite finished insulting me?" he asked roughly, so much so that I flinched. That wasn't my intent. "Tell me to stop, and I will. Say that you don't want me, and I won't force myself on you. Lie to me, if you must, and say that you don't feel what is so clearly tangible between us, Bella. But do not waste your breath trying to convince me that I don't know my heart's desire. I'm quite certain I know yours."

"I'm just saying—"

"You're afraid to believe in what you don't understand," he interrupted impatiently. "You say that you don't know who you are, that you're not the person I've cherished and searched for. Then choose who you want to be, Bella, if you won't accept the history I've presented to you. Decide. I will get you off this island, but what will you do then?

"I…I don't know." There were still so many questions, too many unknowns. I missed my home and my life, but without knowing for certain how I'd come to my parents, I couldn't blindly return to Washington and pretend my world hadn't been upended with doubt and suspicion.

Edward closed his eyes and sighed, appearing disappointed in my answer. He moved away from me to lie on his back and stare at the yellow canopy. Why, for the life of me, couldn't I have kept my mouth shut? Not only had I thoroughly trounced on the mood, but I'd insulted Edward and kicked him right in the stomach. He'd dedicated his life to finding me, and I'd tossed all of it right back in his face.

I sat up, feeling embarrassed and self-conscious. Though I was fully dressed, I had the sudden instinct to cover up, hide. I turned away from him as I slid father away. "I'm sorry," I offered quietly, though the sentiment was woefully insufficient. "I really am."

I rose to duck out and return to Alice's shelter—even on an island I was an orphan without a home of my own—when Edward's gently hand caught my elbow. I glanced back, searching his barely visible expression.

"Don't go, little bird," he urged softly. "Please stay, if you want to."

I deliberated only for a few short seconds. Edward coaxed me back inside to lie next to him, once again bringing my head to rest on his chest and drawing my hand up to his heart. When I bent my knee to adjust my position, Edward assertively cupped his hand behind my knee to bring my leg over his.

"Tell me honestly," he demanded in a low, gruff tone that still managed to sound enticing and smooth. "Do you not feel anything at all?"

I looked up, incredulous. "You're an idiot," I stated simply.

Edward popped a surprised eyebrow at my rude statement. The corner of his mouth turned up in a crooked smirk. "Such a fiery little thing."

Feeling uncharacteristically bold and more than a little jilted for having our intimacy halted so abruptly, leaving me worked up and unsatisfied, I dragged my right leg along Edward's until my knee just brushed the inside of Edward's thigh. He caught my knee at once, closing his eyes tight and expelling a harsh breath.

"You're a damn tease," he groaned.

I could feel the tension in his arms and hips as he forced himself not to make a toy of my limb in such a vulnerable and tempting position. He really thought me entirely too fragile. What I lacked in experience, I more than made up for in fantasy and desire. I was, after all, a hot-blooded woman with a lifetime of sexual repression raging to be unleashed. It didn't hurt at all that Edward was gorgeous and so deliciously masculine.

"I'm not teasing, Edward. I never said I didn't want you."


	21. Chapter 21

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

**A/N:** It has been longer than usual since my last update. Forgive me. I just wasn't in the mood to write given recent events. But, as they say, we cope and move on.

* * *

**Day 4 - Morning**

**13 Survivors (+1)**

**Chapter 21**

_"Hey," he whispered against my temple. I didn't respond, only burrowing deeper under the covers and angling my face against his neck. "We're going to be late." Edward gently trailed his fingers over the side of my neck and combed them through my hair, brushing the mess off my face. The noise that escaped me was a tired hum of contentment mixed with a groan of irritation. "We can't get caught twice in one week."_

_"I've been coming in here for years," I mumbled against his throat. "I really don't think they care."_

_"They didn't care when we were six," he countered with an amused tone. "I think that changed when we hit puberty."_

_"And yet here I am." I dragged my hand up Edward's stomach to rest over his heart, feeling the way his pulse increased slightly with my movement. "Why do you suppose that is? They have cameras. They can see me coming in here at night."_

_Edward gently ran his thumb back and forth over the edge of my jaw, his body relaxed and breathing evenly. "They're still holding out for the day I'll get in your head."_

_"Hop on in," I teased. "The water's fine."_

_"I'd trade just about anything to take a peek inside your mind, little bird. But I think maybe I like this more." I felt Edward's soft, warm lips tenderly kiss the top of my head and then linger for a moment. _

_His hand left my face and slid down my arm, fingers dancing over my shirt to skim along the bottom hem, teasing the narrow strip of bare skin above my hip. _

_"You're cheating," I whimpered sleepily. _

_"You're awake," he teased back. Edward's smug voice was laced with humor as he softly tickled me, making my muscles tense and my torso squirm reluctantly. _

_I lifted my chin to look up, finding a cocky grin on Edward's lips. "I hate you sometimes."_

_"You love me." He cupped my cheek, gently tugging me an inch closer until our lips met. That was all it took. A few brief seconds of Edward's mouth on mine and I rolled on top of him, pinning his hands down to the bed and straddling his hips. Edward groaned, kissing me deeper while he overpowered my strength and forced my arms behind my back. Between my legs, I felt his erection growing beneath his pants. _

_"Knock it off, you two!" Several loud thwacks came from the other side of Edward's door. A familiar voice squawked at us. I loved Alice, but I also loathed her all-knowingness and awful timing. _

_Edward bit my lip, tugging it between his teeth while letting out a frustrated growl. He released my wrists, steadying me when I fell forward against his chest. "You're trouble, little bird." He smiled, kissing me sweetly. _

_I shrugged one shoulder, lifting my chin. "You love it."_

_"I find you mildly entertaining," Edward replied with a tone of disinterest. He looked away, glancing at the clock on his nightstand. _

_"I'd watch it, mister." Sitting up on my knees, I wiggled my fingers threateningly. "I can't always control this and my aim is terrible. Wouldn't want to zap something important."_

_"And on that note…" Edward easily picked me up and dumped me on the other side of the bed, jumping to his feet. "We're really going to be late."_

_"Killjoy."_

_"Misfit."_

_Edward turned, finding me propped up on my elbows and kicking my feet in the air as he pulled off his T-shirt and slid on a new one. I winked at him, biting my lip. _

_"You'll be the death of me, Bella." Edward lunged at me, planting a hungry kiss to my lips. I dug my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer and holding him firmly within my grasp. _

_Edward felt warm, strong, and comfortingly familiar. I ran my hand under the hem of his shirt and across the smooth skin of his stomach. He twitched under my palm. The lean muscles of his back flexed under my fingers, feeling rigid and powerful. _

"Umm…Bella."

_He grabbed my hand, stilling the travel of my fingers. _

_"I don't care," I argued. "Let's be late."_

"Bella, wake up, little bird."

_"I am awake, silly." I nibbled at his bottom lip, scratching my nails lightly across his scalp._

"You're dreaming. Wake up."

I felt Edward's hand trailing down my ribs and shivered. His fingers began tickling the side of my stomach, lightly fluttering over the sensitive bare skin. I squirmed and writhed, suddenly jolting up to get away from the torture. With my eyes open and fully alert, I stared down at Edward's carefully amused smirk.

"Good morning," he greeted me quietly. Edward's hair was wildly tousled and nearly glowing in the daylight. I blinked, trying to sort out reality from fantasy.

"I…umm…"

"Were dreaming about me," he answered proudly. Cocky prick. As if he could hear me, Edward's grin grew wider.

"What time is it?" I glanced out the front of the shelter, growing increasingly apprehensive about anyone noticing I'd spent the night with the island's newest castaway. Well, actually, Edward had been here longer than the rest of us.

Edward lifted his arm and glanced at his naked wrist for a moment, affecting a thoughtful expression. Right, of course. "Half past day-thirty."

"Clever." I sat back, putting a few meager inches between us in the tiny shelter. "And I wasn't dreaming about you." I looked Edward in the eye, attempting to calm my freshly aroused nerves and appear unflustered by the gorgeous man spread out before my like a banquet.

He took on an admonishing frown, mocking me. "Little bird, I happen to know that you're a terrible liar."

"What are you, a mind reader? Don't flatter yourself."

Edward chuckled softly, shaking head and running his fingers through his mussed hair. It was only a dream, but my hands felt as though they'd memorized the soft texture of the strands just the same.

"You talk in your sleep," he answered smugly. "In fact, I'm the one that first discovered your fascinating little habit."

"Fuck nuts!" I slapped my hands over my face, mortified. Granted, the dream was very PG—maybe except the part with the erection—but still, embarrassing. Oddly, I'd constructed much more habitable surroundings for our little interlude. Man, I really missed beds. When we finally got off this island and back to civilization, I'd hunker down in bed for a week solid.

Oh, right. I might not have a home to go back to, I thought again. Frowning, I pushed the idea to the side. One step at a time. Already the images of my dream were fading, slipping from my active memory.

Edward laughed, full and warm. "Damn, you're adorable."

"Screw you," I snapped, pulling my hands away to glare at him. Edward looked anything but contrite. "You started it, okay? So what." Last night, from what I could immediately remember, ended awkwardly and unsatisfactorily.

"I don't mind." Edward sat up, shifting closer on the woven blanket. "But it is a special kind of torture to listen to happy little sounds that fall out of those lips and not know what I'm doing to provoke them." He stared at those lips, my lips, with a mixture of hunger and mischief.

"Edward." I didn't have anything else to add to that. I didn't altogether know if it was a warning or a plea.

"We're going to be late," he whispered just inches away. I glanced up, my eyes wide. A strange feeling began to blossom. It was that moment when you first wake up, disorientated and groggy, and you can't quite remember if the last images in your mind were the dream or reality. "For breakfast, little bird. Everyone else is gathered at the fire."

"Yeah," I nodded absently. "Okay."

xXx

Around the fire, the mood was tense. Dawn had just broken over the beach, illuminating a scene I'd grown all too accustomed to. Several dozen yards away the burnt remnants of the plane cabin sat empty and eerily silent. It had been days since the hulking mass had been spewing blood and smoke, and yet it still felt unnatural for the scorched mass of metal to sit deserted and ignored.

Neat piles of luggage and supplies were organized under small tents, just enough to provide us with dry clothing and such. Two makeshift basins, nearly full, sat with our collected rainwater supply. And like our steadfast fire, the tiny shelters marked by bright yellow tarps stood out unwavering against the deep green lushness of the expansive jungle's edge.

Inevitably, the members of our group had formed micro relationships. In the circle that looked on the flames while picking at fruit and leftover pieces of dried boar meat, divisions were clearly visible. Carlisle and Peter sat together, neither conversing, but both finding a preference in the other's company. Garrett sat between Tanya and Irina. When Rose wasn't doing her best to avoid him, she occasionally and reluctantly smiled at a comment from Emmett.

Alice had, surprisingly, taken an interest in Jasper. Granted, it was decided the best course of action that she not appear too familiar with Edward by sticking close, but her cheerful attitude looked not at all forced as she listened to Jasper talk about his family's ranch in Texas. Laurent and Jacob found themselves de facto breakfast buddies. That did not, however, deter Jake from staring at me with thinly veiled suspicion.

For that matter, I noticed glances frequently darting in my direction as I sat with Edward. Perhaps the others were only curious about the man who'd been invited to our camp. And if that curiosity had been stoked and fed while I hid out in his shelter over night, I could only guess at the theories and rumors twirling in their minds. After all, Jacob and Rose were both potential sources of contention.

When I'd finished eating, I looked up at Edward to find his eyes focused toward the water. However, he had that sort of contrived stare I'd learned was not one of contemplation, but of concealed interest. He was listening while putting on a good front to look preoccupied. I wondered, as I allowed myself only a moment to scan the expressions around us, what intimate details he plucked from their minds. That thought turned to something Edward had briefly mentioned to me yesterday.

If his theory was correct, and that was a big if, I had the as yet untapped ability to co-opt his talent. The idea was both fascinating and bewildering. At some point, everyone must consider what it would be like to be telepathic. It is a frequent fantasy of the supernatural. And yet, as evidenced by Edward's own experiences, the gift is also a burden—one that nearly drove a child to madness. How he managed to conquer the relentless torment of noise in his mind, I had no idea. I suppose I admired Edward's resilience.

Edward's attention shifted, his eyes meeting mine. His cool expression of disinterest vanished. In its place, I saw a secret smile barely tug at the corner of his mouth. Edward's vibrant green eyes lit with something I couldn't place, but the look made smile sheepishly and avert my gaze.

"I'm done," I muttered. "You okay here for a while? I'm going to go get cleaned up."

"I'll survive," he answered playfully. "Just don't hide for too long."

I lifted my eyes, narrowing my gaze at his teasing accusation. "I'm not hiding."

"I'll come too," Alice trilled. She stood, swiping the sand from her shorts. "Rose?"

I forced my expression to remain flat. In truth, I preferred the privacy and peace that bathing alone had afforded me. Additionally, Rose was not my favorite person at the moment. As if unable to turn down an opportunity to irritate me, Rosalie accepted the offer. Wonderful.

xXx

Wading up to our shoulders in the waves, the three of us shampooed our hair. Apparently Rosalie had been hoarding the razors, but Alice managed to coax her to share. Shaving—I'd never skip shaving my legs and underarms again. In winters especially, since no one was looking, I'd gone days without shaving out of pure laziness. Never, ever again. I'd shave just for the privilege of owning a razor now that I'd been denied the opportunity for all of three days. I didn't even mind the burn of saltwater.

Once I'd sufficiently lathered my head, I dunked beneath the waves to rinse my hair. I'd almost made it through girly bonding time without Rose addressing me directly when she glanced at me over her shoulder, twisting her long hair and squeezing the excess water from the strands.

"I wasn't supposed to be on the flight," she stated flatly.

Alice and I halted, giving Rose our attention. Those were certainly far from the words I'd have guessed would come from her. I had been ready to absorb a snide comment, a backbiting accusation—though not unfounded—but not a cryptic admission.

Staring off at the breaking waves, she didn't look at either of us. Her shoulders, which I assumed normally had a fair complexion, were pink and flushed after days of exposure to the sun. "I supposed to have a two-day layover in Sydney before catching a redeye back to L.A. Another flight attendant came down with food poisoning and they called me in."

Despite our differences, I felt guilty for Rose's bad luck. Glancing at Alice, she had a similarly sympathetic expression.

"Rose, I'm sorry." She had no idea how sorry I was. "But I promise you," I told her earnestly, "we are going to make it off the island." Again, I glanced at Alice. Her expression was carefully blank.

"No." Rosalie turned, meeting my eyes. "You don't understand. I should not have been on that flight or working on any plane. I was maybe hungover and more likely still drunk when we took off. So was the pilot."

My breath was choked off in my throat as a wave rolled past us, temporarily splashing over my shoulders. The force of the tide made me stumble under the surface a couple of steps before I had the ability to dig my toes in the sand and find my balance.

No. This was all wrong. I wanted to scream at Rosalie and tell her the truth; that I brought down the plane, and her unethical lapse in judgment, while reprehensible, was not the cause of the crash nor was it a certainty that some tragedy would have befallen us even if not the for "malfunction" our plane suffered.

She was trying to take the blame. Perhaps she'd already condemned herself silently in her own mind, but now Rosalie was professing her guilt through complicity. She should have spoken up. She should have said something before boarding the plane with the pilot unfit to fly. Yes, she should have. But that wouldn't have saved us.

I dart my attention to Alice who is steadfastly staring at Rose, or maybe past her into some well where other possible futures exist. I had no idea how her talent worked. Could she pick through the past, try out other scenarios, and see the results that could have been?

That was beside the point. None of it mattered now. So far as I was aware, a super freak did not exist that could actually manipulate the continuum of time-space. Short of that, contemplation of what ifs were irrelevant and worthless.

"Rose, I assure you-" Alice spoke gently, but I cut her off as I found my voice and the question blurted out unbidden.

"Why are you telling us this?" It sounded more like an accusation as I curtly snapped out the words.

"You could have used my inhaler to try and buy my silence. You could have just ignored the thing all together and left me without it—fuck that chick and let her suffocate. But you didn't," Rosalie said with a heavy sigh. "Why?"

I blinked, surprised. "Because I don't have a death wish for you," I answered in obvious irritation. "Because I wouldn't let you suffocate to death just because I don't like you."

"What about for him?" Her tone was even and without hinting inflection, but we both knew to whom Rose referred. For that matter, Alice was also in on the cover up.

"No."

"We both know he wasn't on the plane." Rose looked to Alice, silently counting her in the conspiracy. I guess Rosalie hadn't missed much since Edward's arrival. "And now know you something damaging about me. When we're rescued, you could have me arrested. Granted, there isn't any proof now, but the accusation would be enough to have me publically shamed at the very least."

"Why do you assume that I'd want to?"

"I'm not assuming," she corrected me as though I were slow to catch on. "This is a trade, Bella. Now I want to know who that man is, and I want to know right fucking now."

Again, I looked to Alice in a reflex action of mild panic. Sure, I could lie again. There was just no way in hell Rosalie could ever guess the truth. I wondered if Edward could hear us. I was waiting for him to show up or Alice to interject something helpful. Instead, I floundered. On the one hand, I believed we'd need help to gain access to the Volturi compound and escape intact. That meant we'd have to reveal the truth soon. The three of us hadn't discussed how or when that should happen, and it felt wrong to unilaterally confess here and now.

Alice's eyes communicated a warning. I read her hesitation clearly.

"Would you kindly quit the bullshit and tell what the fuck is going on?" Rosalie lashed out.

Then, the strangest compulsion overcame me. Like being drunk and without the ability to control the neurological pathways between my brain and my mouth—the messages sent from my conscious mind to the part of my brain that controlled speech—I spewed a flat an emotionless response.

"We're all in danger. We aren't alone on the island..."

* * *

**End notes:** Okay, if anyone caught the reference, don't spoil it. Just congratulate yourself. And no, I'm not talking about the plot to that terrible Denzel Washington movie. Ugh, it was so bad.


	22. Chapter 22

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

**Day 4 - Morning**

**13 Survivors (+1)**

**Chapter 22**

"Rosalie, I need you to listen to me very carefully. I am not a threat to you. I have no wish to harm you or any of the other passengers. It is my intention, as I know it is yours, to seek rescue for the survivors. But I must be clear; I will not be impeded in my purpose. Doing so will invite consequences."

Rosalie stood strangely quiet, still, and expressionless. Edward's voice was smooth and calm, gentle but firm as he spoke. After my colossal screw up, we found ourselves hidden among the trees, still far from the occupied area of the beach. For my part, I watched in rapt fascination at the display; this was a demonstration of Edward's gift in full and intentional use.

"Tell me that you understand," he commanded evenly.

"I understand," Rose parroted, continuing to stare into Edward's mystifying eyes as though unable to wrench her gaze from his.

"I can make this very pleasant for you." Wrapped in shadow cast by the thick canopy, Edward stood among the greenery as an imposing figure. His body was relaxed, absent of any tension. But it was the energy I felt emanating from him—a warm and powerful charge—that gave him an especially daunting appearance in my eye. Given the implications of what I'd done—revealing to Rose a guarded truth—Edward was supremely focused only on the speech to his transfixed audience.

I stood to Edward's right, giving he and Rose several feet of room. Similarly, Alice was at his left. Her attention remained trained to Rose, her eyes occasionally falling flat. It was the look I'd come to understand would overtake her when a vision presented itself. Furthermore, I'd begun to sense from her another unique energy signature. It was far less apparent that Edward's, and I doubt I would have noticed it for what it was, if not for my prolonged exposure to her and the measure of Edward by which to compare and identify the bizarre feeling.

"I would prefer to be kind. I will, however, resort to less agreeable methods if I am so provoked. Will you be cooperative?"

Rosalie didn't answer right away. For several seconds, she stared unblinkingly at Edward. A perceptible build up of energy coalesced in or around Edward, however it worked, as he waited silently for her to respond.

"You're freightened—"

"I'm not," she quickly argued, though her face still remained flat in comparison to her words. It just wasn't normal. Edward had her captured somehow—trapped.

Edward smirked only fractionally, immediately smoothing his momentary amusement. "You're freighted, and that is understandable. You also want the truth. To give you that, I must have your trust. I ask you again—I advise that you be honest—will you cooperate?"

Again, Rosalie pondered the question. In the ensuing silence, I puzzled over my own query: What had provoked me to answer her demand for a truthful explanation? Or more aptly, what had dislodged all sense of rationality to bid me blurt out a damning tirade?

For that matter, I couldn't recall how the conversation had ended or how I managed to find myself sitting in the sand, dressed, and waiting like a child in timeout. My hair was still damp around my shoulders, evidence that my lapse in recollection hadn't been long, when Edward approached me with a troubled and confused expression.

It was as if I'd watched as a captive behind my own eyes; the brief memory that I could readily call upon. Then…nothing. Nothing until Edward assured me he could right the situation and that he wasn't upset with me. I had compromised him, Alice, and our chance for rescue by feeding Rose's curiosity. What was worse, however, was the gnawing feeling that I'd lost control over my own mind. If I hadn't known better, I'd have accused Edward outright.

Concentrating, I closed my eyes and studied Rosalie closely. I searched my senses, separating the energies of Edward and Alice, while seeking any sign of a unique signature from Rose. Almost to the point of pain—a headache forming behind my eyes and spreading through my skull—I attempted to discover her subterfuge. Finally, letting out a puff of air from a held breath, I had to admit to myself that there was nothing.

All I was left with was the knowledge that I, and I alone, had lapsed and thereby endangered all of us. Not only was a defective, but I was also deteriorating. Edward had warned that we all suffered certain brain abnormalities. What that the cause of my blackouts and memory loss, like losing the events that immediately preceded the crash? Had I taken down the plane not by some outside provocation, but merely my own destructiveness?

"You can help us get off the island?" I blinked, fixing my attention to Rosalie's steadfast form. I wasn't certain how long I'd retreated in on myself, but it couldn't have been more than a minute.

"Yes," Edward answered earnestly.

"That's all I want," she answered.

At that, Edward took a step closer. "I won't hurt you," he assured her softly. Rose held firm, waiting for his next move. He looked into her eyes intently, his voice dropping to a low, serious tenor. "There are others on the island. They would see the three of us imprisoned and the rest of you quieted by any means necessary. They have a considerable reach, immense resources, and no concern for human life if it conflicts with their intentions. To escape this island, we must penetrate their facility and deactivate the devices that is inhibiting our radio communications. There is a boat waiting for contact and it will provide rescue."

"Why?" Rose barely whispered the word, absorbing the information with an increasingly worried furrow between her brows.

"Because the three of us are different. We escaped them once, and now they want to reclaim what they've lost."

"Show her, Edward." Alice gave her brother a meaningful look that stretched on for several seconds. Alice nodded, perhaps to some silent question.

Edward returned his attention to the curious woman before him. "I would like you to think of a memory. Anything will do, it doesn't need to be significant, but it must be from your distant past. Try to hold the details in your mind, and be specific."

Her expression contorting in confusion, Rosalie paused for a moment as though she wanted to protest. Then, without averting her gaze from Edward's, her features morphed into what must have been remembrance or concentration. Truly, Edward was oddly hypnotizing, even when his attentions were not directed at me.

"You carry a one-year sober chip in your pocket, though you've since stopped attending meetings." Edward's brow creased and his voice took on a rough edge. "You called your sponsor on a particularly trying evening. He insisted that he visit you at home immediately, that you could not be left alone. He—" Edward paused, snapping his mouth shut. Rosalie's face was worried, pleading. "He betrayed your trust."

"How?" I noticed her bottom lip trembling as her eyes reddened around the edges; tiny fingers of crimson stretching across the white.

"There are people, like me, who have certain abilities." He waited, and I saw the recognition flash behind her pained eyes. "Yes," he confirmed an unspoken question. "No, just me. Alice has visions of the future." Another pause was broken when Edward's eyes slid to mine, a soft smile forming on his lips. "Indeed, but Bella is a great deal more complicated."

"I can't—"

"Rosalie?" Alice stepped forward, drawing her attention as Edward took a step back and seemed to release her from the strange trance in which she'd been held. Rose looked on Alice with wide searching eyes. "You don't have anything to fear from us." Alice spoke gently, comfortingly, as if soothing a child who'd been found lost and wandering in a strange place alone.

In fact, Rosalie was very much out of her depth. I didn't need Edward's ability to understand that she felt alone, frightened—even if she wouldn't admit it. Further, she had a painful history with betrayal. Trust was not a commodity she possessed in large quantity, which made her initial instinct to trust me all the more meaningful and guilt inducing.

"But we are at a great disadvantage," Alice continued as she stepped closer tentatively. "If you share what you know about us too soon, we risk the others at camp doing something rash. We have to approach this from the right angle and in the right time. Do you understand?"

"I do," she nodded. "Alice, honestly, I don't want any part of this. I just want to go home."

"I know," Alice nodded. "And we are going to do everything possible to see that you all make it home safely. But to ensure that happens, Edward needs…" She looked at her brother.

"Would you like me to take away your guilt?"

Rose snapped her attention to Edward, looking almost startled. "You feel that you need redemption. That, I can't offer. I can, however, remove your burden, if you'd like."

"And what is it that you want in return?" She eyed him skeptically. Indeed, there were strings attached to the offer.

This is what he meant: he could make the experience very pleasant for her, if she was cooperative. Edward couldn't take her memory of drinking before boarding the flight, nor could he make her forget that she'd allowed a pilot to fly while intoxicated. He could simply plant the suggestion that she need not feel culpable for the crash. Edward could, through his more invasive ability, tell her to believe that the crash was no mare than a mechanical failure that had nothing to do with the crew on board. He could program her mind to dispense with guilt. The price for such a gift was not struggling against his primary mission of prying her will to his design. The more willingly she accepted his attempt, the more likely it was to take hold. That, he would not tell her.

"I am going to plant a suggestion in your mind," he stated honestly and succinctly. "I am going convince you that divulging any of what has been said here would cause you great personal suffering. You will guard our secret and protect our privacy for the benefit of the other survivors and yourself. And when the time comes, you will attest to the others that we are truthful in seeking their aid."

Edward had moved closer my fractions of steps until he was once against within her personal space. Her eyes remained locked to his, attentive and anticipatory. The two regarded one another for a long while neither flinching nor making any outward movement beyond blinking and the rise and fall of chests on even, calm breaths. Nothing between the two could indicate anything but a mute staring contest—except to me.

The longer the two were locked in the silent exchange, the more acutely I became aware of Edward's palpable energy exerting itself over Rosalie. For the first time, I felt the slightest hint of Rose's presence mingling amongst that of Alice and Edward. It was as though drew something out of her while simultaneously penetrating her mind. The transference was both startling and intriguing.

I remembered back to Edward's analogy of the radio when describing his ability. Perhaps this was the physical manifestation—electromagnetic waves or electrically charged particles traveling from one person to the next, conveying the indeterminate force that allowed for telepathic communication. It is, after all, a scientific fact that all living things emit some form of energy. All matter is composed of the same basic material in various and numerous arrangements.

"You're tired," Edward murmered softly. "You're going to drink a ration of water and then lie down in your shelter."

And with that, Rosalie mutely walked back toward the beach, leaving the three of us alone in the jungle to consider the ramifications of our actions here today. Edward's relieved eyes fell to me.

"We're all right," he assured me. "Her self-interest will be enough to keep her complicity."

"That wasn't what I expected." I looked back through a tangle of bushes toward where Rose had departed.

"And what was that?"

"I don't know exactly." I shrugged, feeling foolish. "A repetitively muttered mantra. A Vulcan mind meld with your foreheads pressed together." Edward smirked, enjoying my absurdity. "You didn't even have to wave your fingers." For effect and because I needed to lighten my own mood, I mimicked the Jedi motion in the air.

"If you prefer, I'll make note of that for next time. More theatrics."

"Cool," I nodded while staring at the ground.

"We're okay," Alice insisted when she easily noticed my apprehension. "You've been under an incredible stress, Bella. No one can fault you for reaching your limit. This is completely manageable and nothing we haven't encountered countless times before."

But I hadn't been honest with them. I hadn't told them I couldn't remember exactly what I'd said, why, or what had happened in the intervening minutes. I began to give serious consideration to the possibility that I was not only defective, but a hazard programed to self-destruct.

* * *

**End Notes:** So, what do you think? Is Bella a time bomb waiting to blow up in their faces? Is she broken? And if she fears that she will endanger the others, what should she do?


	23. Chapter 23

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

**Day 4 - Afternoon**

**13 Survivors (+1)**

**Chapter 23**

Under the guise of exploring more of the island and searching for variety in our food sources, Alice, Edward and I journeyed a new path through the jungle toward the west side of the island—an area Edward had become familiar with during his months in waiting. Before we'd left the beach, Jasper and Jacob had announced they'd make another attempt at seeking a water source, to which Edward gently suggested they look east. I assumed he would have mentioned the hint sooner if we'd been in severe drought. As it was, water had not been a dire concern.

As we walked deeper into the tropical habitat, towering trees gave way to a forest of bamboo and smaller brush. More sunlight graced the jungle floor, washing our surroundings in a vivid yellow rather than the dark and dank shroud of jade shadow. We'd been walking for less than an hour, but the sweltering heat and moist humidity made my skin damp, my shirt clinging to my body. I swept my hair into a messy knot on top of my head, thankful for the very slight brush of air that graced the back of my neck.

"This will do," Edward announced as he stopped abruptly and dropped his backpack to the ground.

Alice and I did the same, and I pulled out a bottle of water to pass between the three of us. We were in a small field of tall grass that brushed my knees, surrounded by young bamboo and edged by dense trees. Edward drank last and deposited the bottle in my bag. I noticed that, while my shirt clung to my body like a heavy, wet rag, Edward's thin cotton T-shirt hugged his chest salaciously. His sculpted pectorals were artfully defined under the white fabric. His abdominals pushed against their cover, teasing me.

"Bella?" Edward caught me staring.

Deflecting, I plucked a long blade of grass from the ground and started wrapping it around my finger tightly, forcing myself to concentrate on the action rather than trying out telepathic suggestion by willing Edward to take of his shirt and just put me out of my misery.

"We'll take it slow," he stated. "There's nothing to be nervous about." Oh, so he hadn't guessed that I was ogling him.

"I'm not nervous," I argued. "But maybe you should be." I smirked as I raised my eyes to his, recalling Edward's suffering thus far in our experimentation and accidental discharge of my temperamental ability.

"She's fine." Alice waved her brother off dismissively. "The trick is not to try, you know?"

"There is no try, only do," I quoted.

Alice chuckled, nodding. "Exactly. I'll be your Obi Wan. Edward can be Yoda."

"You're the stubby one," he chided her playfully. "And your ears are a little pointy." He tugged on his sister's ear, which earned him a scathing scowl as Alice swatted his hand away."

"Whatever," she sighed. "You'll pay for that." She jabbed him in the ribs and quickly retreated before Edward could retaliate.

"Now children," I admonished them, "we have very serious work to do."

Alice quieted her giggling, putting on an overly serious face. Edward stepped toward me, tentatively taking both of my hands in his and inspecting them as though they held some great solution to the mystery of life. I furrowed my brow, watching him curiously.

"Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?" I observed his somewhat concerned expression, confused.

"The electricity," he clarified, his thumbs gently rubbing my palms. "Does it cause you pain?"

"No."

Whatever it was that surged through me, warm and humming, that allowed me to propel and electrocute telepaths was innocuous to me. It was Edward and anyone else in my destructive path that needed to be concerned.

I took my hands back, flexing my fists as I tried to release the tingling sensation that Edward elicited from my skin every time he touched me. Being in his presence, feeling the energy that he emitted, was one thing. Having that energy applied directly to my flesh was a thrilling and unsettling sensation.

"She's not that fragile, Edward." Alice was growing impatient with his hesitancy. Likewise, I wanted to get this over with.

Edward appeared briefly dejected, but nodded flatly and stepped back. "As a disclaimer, some of this might not be pleasant. So far, we know that it takes a severe emotional stimulus to provoke you. I need to know that you want this, that you're prepared, because once we've begun…"

"You need me to get a handle on this, right?" I looked between the siblings, my tone firm. "We can't go charging into that compound without some means of offense, correct?" Edward nodded, his features set rigidly. "Then don't treat me with kid gloves. It can't get any worse than what I've already survived. Do what you have to and I'll take it."

"I still see them coming in three days," Alice announced. "The three brothers and their personal staff." I detected meaning in the last part of that statement. Edward didn't react.

"I want you to relax your body, Bella. Release the tension from your muscles." Edward spoke softly, his eyes fixed on mine.

I attempted to do as he asked, urging my shoulders to drop and my hands to hanging limply at my sides. I rolled my neck, letting my spine settle in a casual posture.

"We're going to find the trigger," he warned me. Edward paused a long moment, glancing at Alice. She took several steps back, giving the two of us a wide berth. "But first I need your permission."

"I told you, do what you have to."

"I'm going to hurt you, Bella. I need you to say the words." Edward's voice was tight. While encouraging me to relax, I saw his tension rising. His expression became stiff, impassive.

During our hike to the ridge, Edward had tried again to penetrate my mind when I'd refused to answer some random question. I had warned him not to do it again, for the pain that screamed through my skull was not a sensation I longed for. So that's where we'd start. Of course, unless he indented to make out in front of his sister, it was the only surefire way to provoke me. This would be a very violent afternoon if that were to be our method.

Steeling myself, I answered him calmly. "You have my permission, Edward. Do it."

And thus all serenity left my body. Reflexively, I braced for the attack; every muscle became rigid and taut. I closed my eyes, holding my breath as I felt the oppressive force of Edward's considerable power strike against my mind. At first, it was like a clumsy lock picker rattling around on the other side of the door. Shortly, Edward's attempts became more adept.

A determined man banging on the steadfast door.

An aggressive intruder kicking at the barrier.

An insurmountable foe bashing at the lock with a sledgehammer.

Dull ache turned to sharp agony. The pain emerged behind my eyes and spread out across my skull. I pushed back, bracing the door with anything not nailed down. I threw my weight at the barrier, shoving my back against the offending force. Quickly, I grew tired, fatigued. In desperation, I felt my anger building. Retaliation seeded itself, luring me. A warm, coursing energy built rapidly under my skin and begged to be released.

"That," Edward stated hurriedly, "hold on to it. Grab that instinct and maintain it."

I tried to puzzle out his meaning, but I didn't feel that I had control over the sensations warring for dominance within me.

"If you want the pain to stop you have to take control, Bella. Concentrate," Edward barked. His voice was harsh and demanding, nothing like the gentleness with which he'd previously treated me. I heard the strain in his tone, the effort.

In my mind, I looked down at my hands and saw light; brilliant white light glowed under the skin. The harder Edward threw himself against the entrance to my psyche, the more luminescent my palms shone.

I was shoved from the door, thrown across the room of my own making, and tossed to the floor. The implements of my defense were shattered as I felt the overwhelming presence of Edward's energy invade my mind. Images, sounds, feelings all berated me without mercy in rapid succession—too fast to comprehend.

Then, like burst of silent fury, all was quiet. I was alone in the darkness—a warm, safe, solitary void of comforting protection. Jolted, I opened my eyes to see Alice hovering over Edward as he sat up, brushed the dirt and foliage from his hair, and stood without expression.

"I'm fine," he assured his sister tightly. Edward looked almost angry—surely disappointed in me. "Again," he commanded.

And that is how it went for the next few hours: pain, frustration, and utter failure to do anything more than brand Edward's backside with bruises. Despite seeing the imagined manifestation of my ability in my mind, I was totally ineffectual at harnessing and manipulating the power. Whereas I was intended to control it, the force overpowered me completely.

I had tried to think of it like blinking; an involuntary action that I could control if I simply thought on it. Then I considered that perhaps it was like twitching a seldom-used muscle. I simply needed to concentrate on that muscle, will it to wigging. More failure.

Instead, my ability seemed to be more aptly likened to my nervous system or even the flow of blood through my body. I had little ability to detect its processes and adequately dictate the function. It was reflex and outside my conscious grasp.

"Damn it!" I threw my head back and clenched my fists, raging at my impotency. A dozen yards away, Edward was slower to stand. When he kneeled to push himself from the sodden ground, Edward winced and briefly held his abdomen. "Edward?"

Alice and I rushed him, helping him stand. He immediately threw off our assistance, forcing his spine to straighten. Even still, his face was contorted in a grim expression. Ignoring his protest, I snatched up the hem of his T-shirt. What I found cut through me like a hot blade across supple skin.

"That's it," I snapped. "We're not doing this anymore. I'll find a way to get a tree to piss me off." I placed my palm to Edward's stomach, cringing at the way he winced and shoved my hand away, grumbling that he was fine.

Across his stomach, and perhaps stretching higher, was an angry red welt. He'd never landed on his stomach when I'd propelled him away. Instead, this looked like repeated exposure to heat, like boiling in a pot of bubbling water. I'd burned him, over and over and over again, while he'd remained silent about his pain.

"Why would you let me do this to you?" I glared at Edward, furious and trembling. "I'm hurting you," I yelled.

"I'll endure it," he growled.

"Edward, maybe Bella is right." Alice's hesitant voice tried to reason with him, but Edward brushed past us, grabbing a bottle of water from my bag. "We have to try something else. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"Would you rather she be captured again?" Edward stood with his shoulders tight and his jaw set. "I won't let them have her," he barked at Alice. "Fuck taking it slow and fuck the consequences. She needs to be able to defend herself. I don't care what happens to me."

"I do!" I shouted back. Incensed, I strode over and knocked the bottle of water from his hand, shoving him back a few steps. "I care! What the hell am I supposed to do if we make it off the island without you? Where do I go? How do I figure out where the hell I came from?"

Edward stared at me unflinchingly while I berated with. I craned my neck to meet his eyes, straining to make myself as tall and imposing as possible against his superior height.

"You can't abandon me again, Edward. Don't you dare think about leaving me again. I swear, I'll—"

Before I could finish my threat, Edward crushed me against his chest. A sob tore through my throat, raw emotion and exhaustion pouring out as a deluge of wracking cries that were muffled against his solid body. His arms banded around my back and shoulders, constricting around me tightly until I couldn't even shake within his iron hold.

"I'm sorry, little bird. I'm sorry. I'm not going anywhere." He kissed the top of my head, resting there as he whispered promises. I felt Alice at my side; she wound her arms around the two of us, and Edward released one arm to pull her tightly into our embrace. "Tell her, Alice. Nothing is going to happen to me. We're leaving here together," he stated softly. "All of us."

Alice didn't say a word.


	24. Chapter 24

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

**A/N:** Here is your reward (if you can call it that) for surviving another Monday. My weekends seem to be getting shorter every week. I had a heck of a time getting this chapter out, so feel free to slam me in the comments. Either way, I'd love to hear your reviews of the story so far.

* * *

**Day 4 - Afternoon**

**13 Survivors (+1)**

**Chapter 24**

For good measure, the three of us took a bit longer than necessary to make our way back to the beach. Along the path, Edward led us to breadfruit, yam beans, and other edible plants that we'd not yet added to our diets. This served the dual purpose of fortifying our alibi and providing our group with much-needed variety for our food supply. I was growing increasingly despondent over mango and bananas.

Alice attempted to improve our collective mood by offering up innocuous anecdotes about the first time she and her brother had visited a movie theater, ridden public transportation, and other simple staples of modern life of which they'd been deprived while in the program. I hadn't stopped to think that, while I'd had a new life handed to me—engineered to be happy and well adjusted—Edward and Alice had thrown off the bonds of a sheltered existence and been thrust into a world that was a great deal different than inside the compound. Needless to say, despite Alice's visions of the outside, the real thing had been a bit of a shock to both of them.

After filling Edward's backpack to the brim with as much fruit and edible plants as we could manage, he led us back to the path toward the beach. If Edward thought he was being stealthy about it, he was wrong; I felt him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye and inching closer to my side as we walked, only to drift away again. All the while, I felt that familiar pull tugging me in his direction. Whether he intended it or not, it seemed I was not entirely ignorant or immune to his power of suggestion. Or perhaps it was just that I could interpret the energy he exuded when it had a particular purpose. It was as if that energy had a language that spoke only to me.

Similar to the tug I'd felt drawing me into the jungle to meet him, or the silent hint that had led me to the cockpit, Edward was urging me closer to his side, even if we both refused to acknowledge the communication.

It wasn't that I was avoiding him—not at all. I had no intention of pushing Edward away, physically or emotionally. For better or worse, we needed each other. If anything, I was embarrassed for injuring him, for disappointing him, and for always having the wrong answer to his questions.

I had the impression that Edward was full of expectations, but he wouldn't just come out and tell me what those were. I felt as though he placed everything in the wrong order. Where I was chiefly concerned with surviving the challenge ahead that would grant us rescue, Edward wanted solutions to problems like where I'd call home after it was all over. Maybe that just made him more optimistic than me.

Alone in my own mind, I almost collided with Alice's back as she came to a dead halt.

"Alice, what is it?" I came around to face her, but Alice's attention was turned inward. Her stare was blank, vacant. I looked to Edward for an explanation as my question went ignored. "Edward?"

He was similarly silent, staring at his sister. Then, alerted by something that went unnoticed to me, Edward snapped his eyes away from us, east toward the dense jungle.

"We won't make it in time," Alice announced hurriedly. "Edward, they're—"

"He's confused," he answered, squinting as though he were trying to see past the wall of green that surrounded us. "He's just wandering, but—"

"Who? What's wrong?" I looked between the two, my nerves arching to attention at the worried tone in their voices.

"I can make it." Edward tightened the straps of his backpack until it was hoisted high on his shoulders. "Take Bella the long way around. Stay away until you see it's clear." Edward took off running at a dead sprint.

"Edward, wait!" I immediately darted after him as I tried to keep pace enough not to lose him through the thick foliage. His longer strides and greater speed had me pushing my legs faster than I'd run in…ever.

Beside me, Alice quickly caught up. We ran past leafy branches that whipped at our cheeks, the tall grass brushing our knees like so many quiet whispers. We held out our hands to hold back obtrusive limbs, hearing as they snapped back upon release. Edward's back remained faintly within view, but the sound of his hurried footfalls grew increasingly less pronounced as my ears were filled with the sound of my own labored breathing.

"What's happening?" I struggled to ask Alice between breaths.

"James is going back to the beach."

"Why are we running? Is he going to hurt someone?"

"They're going to kill him," Alice answered with evident fear. "Jake has—" She tripped over a branch, stumbling several steps before regaining her footing.

I grabbed her arm to keep her on her feet. In the short interim, I'd lost sight of Edward entirely. He was entirely too fast. "Jake has what?"

As the sound echoed through the trees, we both dropped to the ground, stunned and crouching. The loud crack smacked against the thick trunks, bouncing like a pinball all around us, so loud that my ears rang for the few seconds it took to recognize the sound: a gunshot.

Alice's terrified eyes met mine. Wide brown pupils dilated in evidence of her fear and the rush of adrenaline that rushed through her body. I saw my own panic reflected there. Blinking, Alice shot to her feet and I mimicked her.

"It's not Edward, but we have to hurry."

The short minutes it took to reach the shore were counted in the hundreds of breaths that were sucked desperately into my lungs and expelled forcibly. In hindsight, I should have thrown off my backpack, but I had been too singularly focused on moving to consider tossing off weight to make the run easier. When Alice and I burst through the tree line closest to the discarded wreckage of the plane and our shoes met sand, we both came to a sudden stop.

James sat slouching in the sand, one hand cuffed above him to the same section of landing gear strut that had claimed Kate's life. His head was tilted to the side, blooding tricking from a cut above his left eye, and hair that had fallen out his ponytail falling over his face. Above him, Laurent pointed a gun, but not at James. It was Edward who stood between the two, Jasper's sidearm aimed at his chest. Emmett and Garrett stood at Laurent's back. A few of the others were several yards behind, looking on anxiously.

Alice tried to grab me, but I slipped her hold and rushed at the men. My only thought at the moment was that someone was threatening Edward. I reacted purely on instinct as I finally dropped my bag and threw myself into the fray.

"Bella, don't." Edward didn't look at me, but rather kept his attention trained on Laurent.

Emmett stuck his arm out, holding me in place. Despite my attempt to struggle, he kept a tight grip. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Put the gun down!"

"Edward," Laurent stated calmly, "I have no argument with you. Get out of the way."

"Dude, just put the gun down, okay?" Emmett maintained a soft, non-threatening voice as he tried to reason with Laurent. "He's restrained; the guy isn't going anywhere. You don't have to do this."

"No," Laurent shook his head slightly, "he needs to answer for where he's been, what he's been up to all this time. For Victoria," he added pointedly.

"I'm sorry," James groaned. He reached up and touched his left eye, wincing. "Did I miss the question-and-answer portion of this discussion before you pistol-whipped me and chained me up?"

"If you threaten him, he's only more likely to give you the answers you want, not the truth." Edward would certainly know. He maintained his composure while appearing implacable in the face of Laurent's threatening posture.

"I'd beg to differ," James retorted. He waved his raised and restrained hand, looking up at the men like a child waiting to be called on in class. How he managed to keep his irreverent sense of humor was beyond me. "I've come to the conclusion that you can all kiss my ass."

"Will you shut up?" I glared at James, to which he smiled crookedly. I had unresolved issues of my own with this jackass. "Or has it slipped your attention that someone is trying to save your hide?"

"Just give me some time to talk to him," Edward insisted. "Let me give him some water, something to eat, and I'll get his side of the story."

"Uh, Edward, is it?" James squinted against the sun as he angled his face to look at Edward. "Who the fuck are you?"

"You've missed a lot since you were gone, James." Unconsciously, Laurent's arms lowered just a little as he leaned around Edward meet James' eyes. He was incrementally dropping his guard. "They found the body," he taunted, "just tell us why."

"Can you be more specific? I've seen a lot of bodies lately."

"Edward." I said his name as a warning. "Do something, or I will."

I hadn't the slightest idea what I could muster up in terms of a defense in order to put an end to his absurd standoff, but I'd expended my patience with Laurent pointing a gun at Edward. No, I wasn't particularly interested in James' health, but shooting an unarmed, restrained man without provocation was wrong by any measure. Furthermore, only Edward could answer the pressing questions of James' disappearance and if he was involved in Victoria's death. He simply couldn't do that with an audience. Why he was placating them with words and not just using his ability to dissuade them was irking me. I hated to play out superfluous charades when a direct approach was so much quicker.

"Put it down."

I looked over my shoulder. From the tree line, Jacob and Jasper emerged with Alice. I hadn't realized she'd left the beach. What's more, Jake had a rifle trained in our direction; his head was titled over the sight of the weapon, the butt of the black gun nestled tightly against his shoulder in a raised position. Where had that come from?

"You're not getting a second warning," Jasper announced in a deadly serious tone. He carried a second rifle that was a twin of the first. I was at a complete loss. "Put it down and back away."

"Emmett, you and Bella move back. You too, Garrett." Jake marched forward confidently, Jasper at his side, while Alice hung back.

Emmett complied, pulling me with him as he moved. I was too dumbstruck at seeing the men armed with weapons they'd apparently pulled out of thin air to protest. Edward remained firmly rooted in place, but after taking notice of the incoming posse, Laurent relented and tossed the gun to the sand several feet in front of him. With that, Jasper bent to retrieve the pistol. He the ejected the clip, checked it, and then replaced it before tucking it in his waistband behind his back. Jake lowered his rifle, sparing a glance at me before returning his attention to the matter at hand.

Jasper appraised James. "Where did you get those?" He nodded, indicating the handcuffs. I had to assume they were his, but he looked surprised to find them in use.

"I found them when we were picking through the cabin," Laurent answered defensively.

"You weren't in the cabin," Jake interjected. He took a step closer, crowding Laurent in an intentional show of intimidation. "You were on water and shelter duty. You weren't anywhere near the plane."

"Before that." Laurent didn't flinch, but his tone spoke to his distaste for Jake's assumption. "After the crash. I went into the cabin to check the bodies."

"To scavenge the dead," Jake corrected him.

"Yes," he answered indignantly. "So what? We all did."

"I'm just fine." James dismissively waved his unrestrained hand. "Thanks for asking."

"Not interested," Jake replied gruffly. He narrowed his eyes at Edward. "Why do I keep finding you in all the wrong places?"

"Take Laurent," Jasper tersely ordered Jake. "Find out what the hell started all of this."

"You're not letting him go," Laurent protested loudly. "That sonofabitch is a murderer."

"Well now I'm intrigued," James offered up in his resiliently unaffected tone. "Feel free to fill me in, Cool Runnings."

Laurent lunged at James, but before he could strangle the helpless man, Jake and Edward restrained him.

"I've got it," Jake snapped. He maneuvered behind Laurent, locking his arms under the struggling man's armpits and behind his neck, effectively incapacitating Laurent's flailing. Harshly growling a few commands to shut up and calm down, Jake dragged him away.

Emmett followed, whether to offer up information or simply to watch the fallout. Garrett, apparently satisfied that the worst was over, returned down the beach toward Tanya and Irina. I surveyed the audience that had been cautiously observing, and noticed that Carlisle and Peter were absent. I idly wondered if the situation would have escalated so quickly if Carlisle had been present to offer a cooler temperament. I was then thankful that Peter did not have to witness another standoff at the tip of the same gun that Charlotte had wielded to take Randall's life and her own. I was really getting sick of the sound of gunshots, though our arsenal was growing.

"Alice," Edward announced curtly. "Now will you please take Bella?"

I snapped my eyes to his, surprised by his cold tone. Did he really have the nerve to be upset with us? He was a lunatic that had put himself in the line of fire. I still didn't know what had precipitated the gunshot we'd heard before arrive at the beach, but I assumed it had been a warning or a very poor shot that missed its mark.

"Come on," Alice tugged my arm while giving Edward a irritated glare. "Bella," she urged when I stared at Edward questioningly, "let's go. They're fine."

Fine. If Edward wanted to play cloak-and-dagger, I'd go pump Jake for information as to how the hell he'd shown up armed and dangerous. Furthermore, he had looked awfully comfortable behind that rifle.


	25. Chapter 25

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

**A/N:** Sad Face. Only two comments on the last chapter. Don't make me do something drastic to these characters. ;-)

* * *

**Day 4 - Afternoon**

**13 Survivors (+1)**

**Chapter 25**

The mood was strained and tense, to put it mildly, as our group gathered in the aftermath. The afternoon sun berated us from above, shining an all-seeing eye on what had transpired here. This was a study in the frailty of the human psyche, the beginnings of _Lord of the Flies_. James was not the bullied outcast, but he would serve as an analog for all the fears and frustrations of the stranded passengers. Without assurance that rescue was imminent, the baser instincts of human nature were emerging. Rifts were more readily apparent; the cracks of our tentative alliance were splitting wider.

"Alright, someone want to fill me in on what I missed?" Jasper had the rifle slung over his shoulder and around his back. He stood authoritative and resolute, keen eyes scanning the group.

Jasper's posture and tone reminded me so much of Charlie on the one occasion I'd seen him arrive at a high school party that had gotten out of hand. Three seniors were found passed out on the front lawn of Mike's house, two were caught with their pants down in the pool, and the neighbor's house had been egged. It was, in a word, mortifying.

"I think you two ought to go first," Garrett responded pointedly.

In the past few days his beard had grown dark and full around his jaw. Still short, it thickly covered his face, giving him the appearance of being several years older than when we'd arrived.

Garrett nodded to Jasper and Jacob, both of who had returned to the beach conspicuously armed to the teeth. "Are you going to tell me those came off the plane, too?"

"For that matter, perhaps you'd put everyone at ease by setting the rifles down." As per usual, Carlisle spoke softly in his non-confrontational tone. There was, however, no mistaking that his statement was not a question.

In answer, Jasper nodded to Jake's questioning look. Jasper set his rifle to the side, laying it down on one of the airline seats that we'd dragged over to the campfire.

"They aren't loaded," Jake remarked. He pulled his rifle off his shoulder and released the wide, curved magazine, showing us that it was empty, and then replaced it. After setting the gun next to Jasper's, he opened the backpack at his feet to reveal two small cardboard boxes of ammunition. "And no, they didn't come from our plane."

He and Jasper, both looking tired from their hike through the jungle, shared a brief look before continuing. "We found a small aircraft a couple of miles east through the jungle. Judging by the bodies inside, it has been there for months—years, maybe. The rifles were inside, along with the ammo and about three kilos of heroine."

"Holy shit." Emmett clasped his hands behind his neck, whistling his surprise. "Are you sure?"

"Certain," Jasper nodded. "I worked narcotics for three years. They were probably drug smugglers that went down in a storm. Both wings were sheered off the plane."

"That doesn't explain why you thought it was necessary to bring the guns back with you." Rose asserted herself unflinchingly. "Nothing good has come from having that pistol around."

Happily, Rosalie didn't once glance toward Alice and I. I somewhat expected her to scowl in my direction or give some other silent indication that she was fuming over the morning's events, but she remained inconspicuous.

How quickly the lies, secrets, and silent alliances were complicating the simple goal of survival. I was at once relieved and grim at the prospect that, according to Alice's vision, we had only three more days to endure. Any longer than that and our group might not withstand the wait.

"I'd feel better if we got rid of all of them," Peter stated.

For the most part, Peter had retreated from the group. In fact, though he was physically healthy, he had begun to resemble Randall more and more each day. He was the elephant in the room, the uncomfortable subject that no one wanted to acknowledge. His presence only made the rest of us feel worse about a terrible situation. What's more, it was entirely possible that he and Carlisle had been unwittingly embroiled in the Volturi's devious designs through their wives' illnesses. Sadly, it seemed, neither had ever had a fair shot at avoiding this tragedy.

"The rifles could be useful for hunting," Emmett offered up. Rose shot him a glare, to which Emmett shrugged innocently. "Hey, that boar we caught almost took my favorite nut."

"And it looked like we showed up just in time," Jake answered smugly as he stared down Laurent.

"Which brings us back to the question of why James is handcuffed to the landing gear." Jasper surveyed Laurent and then the group, waiting for someone else to offer up an explanation. "I don't have the keys. If we can't figure out a way to pick the lock or break it, that man is going stay right where he is until rescue arrives. This was not a great plan."

"Yesterday you were all convinced that James killed Victoria. What, now all of the sudden he was framed by the one-armed man?" Laurent was indignant in the face of Jasper's admonishment. He scratched his fingers through is scalp agitatedly and paced a short path back and forth.

Irina balked at how easily Jasper and Jake reproved Laurent's rashness. "I, for one, feel better knowing he's chained up."

"Irina," Tanya chided her younger sister, her thin eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"What? Laurent's right. Who else could have done it? James pulled a knife on Jake the first day, didn't he? And he was harassing Bella. Let him rot out there."

"Until we've heard his side of the story, we can't condemn the man," Carlisle interjected.

I glanced over my shoulder to where Edward was several yards away and kneeling in the sand in front of James. He'd get the truth out of him easily enough. Unfortunately, whatever was revealed through James' thoughts, it would be nearly impossible to relate it to the others without divulging how he'd come to the information. Perhaps we would have to confess sooner rather than later. I could only imagine the fallout.

"What did he say when he came back?" Jasper ignored the argument and kept to his line of questioning. "How did he arrive?"

"He wandered out of the jungle looking dehydrated and a little dazed," Irina answered. "I was hanging clothes to dry when he approached me."

"I saw him alone with her," Laurent offered defensively. "I thought he was going to hurt her. I just reacted." He ceased his pacing and sat down, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I came up behind him, clocked him once, and he collapsed right there at my feet."

"I helped drag him over there," Garrett admitted. "And if I'd been holding the gun when James came up to my sister-in-law, I'd have shot the bastard in the kneecap." He placed his arm over Irina's shoulder and pulled her against his chest, kissing the top of her head. She gave Laurent a repentant smile that was at once sad and grateful.

For several minutes, the group argued in circles over what to do with James. With the exception of Carlisle, all were in agreement—some more adamantly that others—that James was guilty. A few wanted to leave James where he was and just ignore the problem. Of course, that was not a realistic solution. Emmett and Jake tossed around a few ideas of how to break the cuffs. Apparently shooting them off only worked in the movies. Other than finding tweezers or bobby pins in the luggage, we quickly realized that our feasible options were between slim and nil.

"What if we found something to use as a lever," Peter proposed. "We could use that to snap the chain between the cuffs. If it was thin enough, we might be able to get it through the cuff attached to the strut."

"I tried that once," I reminded them. I couldn't bare to look at Tanya, Irina, or Garrett when I referred to Kate's death and my inability to save her. "There's nothing. Anything strong enough to break steal is still attached to the plane. Without tools, we're not getting anything loose."

"And we'd break his arm in the process," Carlisle added.

"His arm or his life," Garrett muttered under his breath.

Carlisle chose to ignore it, instead keeping his attention on the welfare of the captive man. "At the very least, we need to erect a shelter over the landing gear to shade him from the sun. That man will dehydrate too quickly and suffer severe burns if we leave him exposed."

"Have at it, Doc." Laurent made a show of crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not lifting a finger to help that murderer."

"I'll help," I offered. The others looked at me with mixed expression of disgust, but I chose to ignore it. "At the very least—"

I aborted my statement when Alice swiftly grabbed my hand and squeezed firmly.

"Thank you," Carlisle responded. "I'd also like to bring him some water and take a look at his injuries…"

The other continued to debate and bicker while I puzzled over Alice's strange expression. She didn't speak, just looking straight into my eyes as if trying to communicate, but I was at a loss.

"Alice, what's wro—"

The shot snapped through the air like the amplified strike of a whip. The sound lashed against my chest, stunning me silent. I didn't drop to the ground. No one did. All attention was diverted to the sight of Edward standing over James' limp and lifeless body. His hand was still outstretched, briefly frozen as a portrait of grotesque will, aiming a pistol at James' head. And then he dropped his hand to his side and turned his back on his victim.

James' blood leaked quickly from the wound in the side of his head to travel the length of his neck, shoulder, arm, and meet the porous white earth. Red stained the sand, seeping into the ground as it created a growing puddle of spent life. Commotion briefly broke out behind me. A woman screamed. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Jasper and Jake raise their unloaded rifles in a threatening posture.

With the pistol handing from his hand at his side, Edward deliberately walked toward us. Beside me, Jake and Jasper shouted orders for him to "stop, put the gun down," but he continued toward us undeterred. Within thirty feet of our bewildered ground, Edward spoke with a sort of eerie confidence.

"Put the guns down," he ordered. They complied immediately. Edward continued to walk closer at an unhurried pace. "He was stricken with remorse and shot himself. You'll break his hand to release him from the cuffs and then carry his body into the jungle to leave with the others in the cockpit."

Edward didn't once lay his eyes on mine. He proceeded past the fire pit and through the jungle, never glancing back to see that his orders were being swiftly carried out. Laurent, Emmett, and Garrett moved toward James' body as the women scattered to go on about their business. Peter pulled a paperback book from his back pocket and sat down to read. Carlisle retreated back to his tent. Everyone, with the exception of Alice and I, moved like unaffected automatons like nothing had happened, where just moments ago they'd been squabbling over the fate of a man's life.

I stared after them in disbelief for a solid minute, all the while ignoring Alice's words that tried to creep into my awareness. I felt as if I existed outside their reality. An interloper that no one could see or hear, I stood among bewitched oblivious.

What it is they say about the one mad woman screaming at the top of her lungs that everyone else is crazy?

I knew where I had to go. The distance did nothing to dissipate the trail. I simply needed to gather my wits about me and tell my feet to start moving. I felt like Beatrix Kiddo, internally mumbling "wiggle your big toe."

Go.

Walk.

Move!

Alice insisted further, nudging my shoulder when it was obvious that I was patently ignoring her or perhaps going into shock. Whatever she said, I disregarded it. I shook her hand loose from my arm and turned away. Without a second thought, I proceeded into the humid shade of the jungle in pursuit of Edward, following my ever-present awareness of his energy.

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**End Notes: **Huh. What do you think that was all about?


	26. Chapter 26

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_ A/N:_ Now would be a good time to reacquaint yourself with the warning I issued at the start of first his story. If you've got a weak stomach, you might not like this part.

* * *

**Chapter 26**

Through thickening brush and tangled vines, past trees that were all similar and towering, I followed Edward for over a mile. I never caught a glimpse of him, but sensed his presence nonetheless. The sun made futile attempts to shine through the dense canopy, only intermittently meeting the ground and casting shafts of light across my skin. My footsteps sounded offensively loud against the harmonious chorus of birds chirping above and the sea breeze rustling the highest leaves.

At the edge of a dark pool of flowing water—the spring he'd subtly directed Jasper and Jacob to find—Edward stood stoic with his back to me. I had no intention of opening the conversation first. He knew I was there, watching him, and he'd eventually speak or we'd remain in our silent standoff until the sun fell and rose a dozen times. If, as he claimed, Edward knew me at all, then he knew better than to test my resolve.

Several minutes passed before he casually discarded his T-shirt and then his shoes, sitting on a boulder at the edge of the spring to soak his legs in the water. After lingering there a while longer, I saw the muscles in his back flex and relax on a deep breath.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"You don't want to know," I answered him harshly. Truthfully, I was having second thoughts about throwing my lot in with the wrong ally.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

"Not for killing him, no." Edward reached into the water, scrubbing at his hands. "I'm sorry for disappointing you. For frightening you."

"The others," I prompted. "You just waved your magic wand and fixed it?" He didn't answer but for a slight shrug. "All at once? You can do that?" Edward continued to ignore me, or his silence was his answer. "You make it look so easy."

"It is easy." Edward abruptly stood and turned to glare at me. I flinched slightly at his aggressive posture and biting tone of voice. "And every time I do it, it becomes a little harder to stop. Try not to breath while you talk and you'll understand a tenth of what I wrestle with."

"But I thought you said…"

I trailed off as I tried to recall our past conversations. The way Edward had explained the more manipulative side of his ability—I had gotten the impression that his power of suggestions was far less dependable and required a great deal of concentration. Had the intense exchange between he and Rosalie been a show after all?

"Why didn't you just tell the others what you heard in James' mind? Why not just tell him to confess or—"

"Why do you think I shot him?"

Edward cut me off. His demeanor was unsettled and agitated with a streak of cold malevolence that I didn't particularly like. I wasn't sure how I expected a person to behave after ending another human being's life, but this was just… frightening.

"Because he killed—"

But then a more disturbing thought entered my mind. The image of Edward holding that gun over James' lifeless body was forever burned into my memory. No matter that I assumed Edward was justified in doing so—that he had to have been protecting us—I would never again view him as the innocent little boy from my dream.

"Why did you pull the trigger? Why not just make James do it himself?"

Edward looked away. He narrowed his eyes—against the sun or in deliberation—as he stared at the edge of the water. I noticed the full extent of the damage I'd inflicted on his chest and abdomen during our failed attempts at training my ability this morning. His skin was red and swollen; areas of puckered flesh that resembled several burns I'd endured from the stove or toaster oven. There was also a tattoo. It was barely noticeable at a distance, but I saw it clearly now. A white dove—no outlining or dark colors—in profile over his heart.

"Because if I am going to put a bullet through a man's head, Bella, I should very well be holding the gun when it happens."

I almost ignored his statement while I stared at the tattoo. Tis was the first time I'd seen Edward without his shirt on. Unless I was woefully mistaken, Edward had a memorial to me—to the girl he'd lost—forever marked on his body.

"Why did you kill him?" He'd asked me the question as if the answer weren't obvious, so now I wanted to hear it in his own words. Clearly I was out of my depth to hypothesize his reasoning.

"James didn't kill Victoria." Edward settled his stone gaze on me with unnerving precision. I stopped breathing. "She fell from a tree while trying to gather food. He panicked, left her there, and has been on a heroine bender since finding the stash in the other plane."

"Edward." My voice was small; my vocal chords were tight with rising anxiety. I didn't want to believe what he was admitting to. "Why? Please. Give me a reason."

"Victoria wasn't his wife. She was disturbed because he made her that way." Fury burned behind Edward's eyes. He took a step closer. At his sides, his fists were clenched tight, forcing the muscles in his forearms to distend against the skin. "He stalked his victims; tracked them as he identified those who wouldn't be missed and had the traits he preferred. The sick, vile bastard lured them in, drugged them, and kept them chained in a disgusting hell hole for months."

I was trembling. My teeth bit down on my lower lip to keep from—I don't know what. Scream? Cry? What Edward was describing was horrific. Worse than Hell.

"He didn't just rape them, Bella. He tortured them. He took pleasure in their pain. Victoria he used like a trained animal, a lap dog. He was going to the States because he had tired of her and planned to sell her into human trafficking." Edward took another step closer. I remained rooted to the ground. "So yes, Bella, I could have made him do a lot of things. But I pulled the trigger and put a bullet through his skull because it was justice, he deserved it, and I goddamn well wanted to."


	27. Chapter 27

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

__**A/N: **I think I am going to incentivize you a little for my own ego boost. I know, I'm shameless. When this story hits 300 reviews, I will write a one-shot in Edward's POV. Request a scene or moment that you'd like told from his voice and I'll write up the most popular suggestion. How's that?

* * *

**Chapter 27**

I felt like I was trapped in a steel cage with a pacing, agitated tiger. Bitterness and anger were radiating from Edward with such potency that I distinctly felt the shift in his energy. It was humming, throbbing, and violent. Though he'd proven himself a dangerous individual, I couldn't seem to muster up an ounce of fear toward him. For a long minute, we stared at each other surrounded by the jungle and its muted soundtrack. Edward was clearly waiting for me to say something, but what could I possibly say in answer to his confession?

Real people, outside the pages of Victorian fantasies and fairytales, are complex and often contradictory. I had, to this point, seen Edward as a gentle man and loyal brother—a selfless friend whose desire to right a wrong was all consuming. And perhaps that was from where Edward's fury stemmed.

For one, any man worth a damn would have been disgusted by what he saw in James' mind as Edward had described it. But Edward, Alice, and I had been prisoners at one time. Sure, it was a pretty cell, but a cage just the same. Of course Edward would have been instigated to extreme measures after learning of James' proclivities for torture and taking captives. He had described what happened to me—the manner in which my memories were stripped and replaced with falsities—as a torture he had no desire to explain.

What would I have done if given the opportunity and the benefit of Edward's gift? What might I have been capable of if I'd seen Angela in James' mind? Or Alice? Bile rose to the back of my throat. My skin buzzed with hot, crackling electricity. I realized, perhaps for the first time with real clarity and context, that Edward had lived his entire life with the sick thoughts of humanity assaulting his consciousness continuously. In the years since he and Alice had escaped the program, he must have seen and heard through the minds of others all manner of depraved desires. How did one person live under such torment? How had he not lost his mind and all faith in society?

For that matter, how had he not put a pistol between his own lips if only to shut out the cruelty?

A torrent of confused and irritating emotion washed through my body. My fingers tingled and the hairs on my arms stood taut. It felt as though the air was charged; much like the electricity before a severe thunderstorm that would have the sky dark but for the hot bolts that alighted the gray.

"I want to try again," I announced tersely. Edward's eyebrows furrowed and he grimaced. "Right now," I reiterated impatiently. I was keyed up and ready for a release. This—the overwhelming sensation of a building energy—was as close to the feeling right before an explosive display of my ability that I'd felt in any sort of sustainable and tangible way. Maybe I could hold on to it, harness it, and pull the trigger.

"Bella—"

"Get out of the way, Edward." I met his eyes unflinchingly. "I don't think I have any sort of aim with this."

He studied me for a moment longer while my fingers clenched into vibrating fists at my sides. After a beat, Edward stepped away and then came to stand very close behind me. More than just the energy he radiated, I felt the physical heat from his body assaulting my back.

"What do you need?" He whispered in a voice so dark and low that I shivered.

"I give you permission. Try again. Make me feel what you felt when you read his mind. Show me."

I took a deep breath, prepared myself, and focused my attention on a massive tree across the rippling spring forty yards away. I heard Edward exhale and felt his energy coalesce in a concentrated assault on my mind. Like before, the pain started as a dull ache that quickly transformed into a sharp pain that traveled from behind my eyes over the top of my skull. Agony traveled down my spine and multiplied into millions of hot splinters that touched every raw nerve.

In my mind I stood in the center of my darkness. This time the attempt at intrusion did not come as a barrage from all sides, but as a single point of intense pressure. The void around me was sturdy. As the pressure intensified, the surface tension concentrated around an invading presence. The finger poking at the flexible skin of the balloon protruded further into my sanctuary.

And then it popped.

My protective blackness was overcome by light, sound, images so fast and confused that I couldn't interpret them. I was assailed by sensation and emotion. My entire body tensed against the barrage. But still I resisted the discharge. I didn't attempt to close the hole and seal the wound. Instead, I forced myself to accept the experience.

For several excruciating seconds I suffered inside pure chaos. Imagine a spatial dimension where the laws of physics do not apply. There was no atomic cohesion, no order, and no structure to matter. But slowly, painfully patient and dawdling, the anarchy took shape. The lights dimmed. The cacophony of noise dulled to a low hum like that of a refrigerator or air conditioner in the next room on the other side of a thin wall of drywall and fiberglass insulation. I heard whimpers, the tired clinks of chains moving and scraping across a cement floor.

The smell was horrid: putrid human filth and mold. A single shaft of light emanated from below a closed door. Four cowering, shivering, naked bodies covered in grime curled away from me. I felt something in my hand and looked down. The handle was worn wood with brass embellishment. It felt warm and familiar in my hand. It was power and exhilaration unlike any I'd ever felt before. The steel hilt rested comfortably over the skin between my thumb and forefinger. I liked the way the blade reflected the shaft of orange light that leaked into the room. Natalie glanced up in trepidation. Her large brown eyes were dark, pleading, and vulnerable. She'd beg, and fuck I loved it when they begged.

"Enough," I screamed. But I took a step toward the frightened lamb anyway. "No more. Stop," I demanded. The scene continued to play out despite my protest. I pulled the girl by her dirty, matted hair and yanked hard, dragging her and the chains attached at her wrists and ankles along the floor with a satisfying scrape. "Make it stop!" I screamed desperately. "Now!"

"I won't, Bella." Edward's voice pierced the scene that refused to darken. "If you want it to end, you have to take control."

"Please. I can't do this. It's too much."

"You can and you must. There's no one else to help you. You're alone, Bella."

I traced the long blade up the side of the little lamb's ribcage, tracing each protruding bone and indentation. Her skin was so soft and supple. Just the tiniest bit of pressure and it would open for me. Even as my stomach revolted against me, I felt intense anticipation and excitement.

"Edward." I pleaded his name. I wanted to close my eyes against the horror playing out in front of me, but the scene continued undeterred.

"End it, Bella. You have that power." His voice was a calm command that slithered through my very being. "Do it. Take control, little bird."

His words took root inside of me burrowed deep. I felt the change take effect. It motivated me, directed me, and there was nothing I could do to refuse. I raised the knife in my hand, stared at the blurry reflection of James' face in the metal blade, and then jabbed the pointed edge into my throat.

The discharge was massive; a brilliant light burst behind my closed eyes, fire erupted around my skin, and pure energy exploded out around me. I was a super nova. I was the big bang. I was power and fury like that no human had ever experienced. Every muscle convulsed in excited release, and then there was an intense sensation of relief. If gods had orgasms…

"Open your eyes, little bird, and see what you are."

My heavy eyelids lifted to half-mast and then widened in bewilderment. The majestic tree, so sturdy and firmly rooted to the earth, had been obliterated. In its place was only unidentifiable destruction of limbs and leaves. The heap was smoking, smoldering, and giving off the heavy smell burnt wood like sawdust.

Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.


	28. Chapter 28

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

**A/N: **Did I just update all three stories in the same day? Yep. Sure did. Now tell me how awesome I am. ;-)

* * *

**Chapter 28**

For some inexplicable reason, as I stared into the wistful smoke that curled up from the decimated heap of former tree, my mind traveled back to my earliest memory. My mother, Renee, and I were in the back yard pouring colored wax into little holes we'd dug into the ground. The idea was to create sand-encased candles. After the wax hardened, you simply dug out the candle and brushed off the sand that hadn't adhered to the wax. More expensive and colorful versions could be found at kitschy tourist shops in Port Angeles, but my mom and I enjoyed little crafty activities. I might have been five or six at the time.

But while I pictured both of kneeling in the grass, our fingers covered in wax film and dirt, the sun uncharacteristically warm and bright overhead, and the wide smile on her face, I realized that the memory was a lie. Or rather, more accurately, it was not my earliest, as I'd believed for so long.

Another, far less fond, memory shoved its way to the forefront of my recollection. In this one, I was a smaller child. Charlie was anxiously following a woman around the house as she talked loudly, waving her hands in agitation, and hurried about emptying drawers into a large suitcase. My father was wearing his police uniform—he wasn't chief then, as evidenced by the different emblem embroidered on his arm—and a confused, panicked expression.

I couldn't really make out or remember the words they traded, but the sequence of events was clear enough to interpret. At the landing of the stairs beside the front door, the woman wiped tears from her eyes, placed a gold ring on the small table beside the couch, and grabbed my hand. She lifted a small, frightened me into her arms and walked out the front door. I was packed snuggly in the back seat. Two sad brown eyes stared back at me in the rearview mirror. She spoke, I cried, and the house passed outside my window.

The very last moment of that memory, which slipped quickly like oil through my fingers, was of those same panicked eyes alighting on me as blinding lights engulfed us. Then those eyes were vacant and all was black. A sudden sense of terror smacked into me head-on. My body jerked and leaned backward against the force of the impact.

Two strong, sturdy arms wrapped around me from behind and pulled me from the wreckage of my memory. My pulse, elevated and loud in my ears, calmed somewhat as I registered Edward whispering against my ear. I relaxed, taking deep breaths as my eyes scanned the jungle around us and grounded me firmly back in the present reality.

"Did you do that?" I asked Edward in a voice just above a whisper. He'd told me he didn't know anything about my past before the program or since my supposed escape.

"Do what, Bella? Where did you go?" His voice caressed my skin and settled me. Across my stomach, Edward's fingertips gently rubbed little circles in an effort to calm me.

"I was thinking about Renee, remembering something we used to do together, but then another memory sort of pushed itself on me. The one with Renee was definitely from a time I should have been in the program. But the other…" I turned around in his arms and gazed up into his steady green eyes. "You said I came to the program when I was three?"

"Yes."

"Edward, I think I saw my mother. My real mother. I think…" I trailed off, battling with myself if I was capable or wise in trusting the errant memory when all others I possessed were questionable at best and false in most cases. "I think I know where I came from."

His warm hands, so large, moved up to my neck. He stared, probing eyes boring into me. "What did you see?"

"Charlie. He was arguing with a woman I don't recognize, but I feel—" I stopped myself. Could I really assume so much? It was a brief, incomplete scene without context. But the way she held me, her protective arms encircling me and pressing me to her chest, it had to be. The emotion was there. Even if my mind didn't recall her association, my heart knew her.

"Trust your instincts, Bella. What did you feel?"

"That she was a mom," I answered softly. "She was leaving Charlie, walking out on him. Then she picked me up and put me in the car. We were driving, I was sitting in the backseat, and then—" I flinched a little, as if those headlights were barreling toward me once more. "I don't how long after we left the house, but we were in a car accident. She died."

Edward's hands slid up to cup my face gentle between his palms. Sympathy overcame his expression. "Bella, I'm sorry. I wish I could offer you some kind of confirmation, but—"

"You can," I answered back quickly. "You said we could try, remember? To recover my memories." Edward frowned, but I ignored his hesitancy. "Whatever just happened," I nodded behind me toward the demolished tree, "maybe that sort of knocked something loose, you know? But it is a start, right? So let's start there."

"You've done enough for one day," he argued gently. "That was extraordinary, Bella. Truly. Perhaps it's best to take the win and rest for a while before we try again. I don't want—"

"Edward," I snapped impatiently. "You said yourself that we don't have time for being gentle and taking our time. We're on a deadline. If I need to go into that compound armed, I want to have my memories—as many as I can get—and my ability. I have to believe they're linked. The more I can recover of my own mind, the better I feel like I'll get a handle on whatever it is that's inside of me."

I studied his reluctant expression—brow furrowed and jaw set tight—for a moment to find some opening in his denial, some angle I could exploit to gain his assistance. We were inexorably linked in this endeavor. I had no hope of making any progress alone.

"I felt it, Edward. I felt the trigger and I pulled it. I know I can do it again with the right motivation. So let's see what else we can do. Get in there and let's tinker around. Rather than trying to stuff something in my head, try pulling something out. You're the only person who can retrieve these memories, Edward. I don't want to feel like no one anymore. Help me find who I was."

"You're not no one, little bird. Whether we make this work or not, this girl right here," he rubbed both his thumbs over my cheeks softly, "this brave person in front of me—I want to know her. I admire her. And she's even more amazing than I remember."

"Help me," I reiterated.

"Anything, Bella. Anything at all."

We planted ourselves atop the boulder Edward had occupied earlier and took a minute to settle our nerves. I knew I was nervous, and judging from the strange convulsions in the energy I felt emanating from him, I guessed that Edward was in much the same state of uncertainty. After all, these attempts had always ended in bodily harm on his end.

"It's painful, isn't it?"

"Yes," I admitted freely. "The harder you push, the more it hurts. But once you're inside, it isn't so much pain as…chaos, confusion. If what I see and feel is what's going on in your head all the time…" I shook my head. "I don't know how you put up with it."

Edward's expression contorted for a moment and he adjusted his position. I appraised him curiously as he glanced away and cleared his throat. Then it hit me. I realized the choice of words I had used and laughed at myself, burying my face in my hands.

"You know what I meant," I groaned. "Seriously, Edward. Get your mind out of the gutter."

His laughing eyes relaxed on me again. That wickedly crooked smirk absorbed his lips enticingly. "Bella, that is a promise I just can't make." I popped an eyebrow at his blatant honesty. "Skipping over the sordid details," he winked, "but you have to allow me some leeway here. Though you don't share them, I have certain…memories…of us."

My face flushed warm and red. Very pleasant tingles ran down my spine. Huh. "Memories?"

His smile grew wider. The man didn't even try to cover his amusement. "Uh, yes. Trust that I don't make it a habit to assault the lips of every island castaway I attempt to rescue."

Right. There was that.

"Good thing," I nodded mockingly. "Because I don't think Emmett swings that way."

Edward laughed, and the sound was decidedly enjoyable. "You might be sick of hearing this by now, but you really are exactly the same, little bird. I really can't help that you're so damn cute."

"Cute?" There was that word again. But for some reason, I had this gut reaction against it. "You're going to have to work on your adjectives if you're trying to woo me. Cute isn't one I respond to." Big fat liar.

"Liar."

Damn. He was good.

"But if you'd rather I tell you you're gorgeous, or enthralling, or just plain sexy as sin—"

My eyes darted elsewhere as I bit my lip. I had never been great at taking compliments. Coming from Edward, I felt embarrassed at the forwardness, but definitely in a good way. He was just so…uninhibited. Not something I was used to. Everything about him was intense and somewhat overwhelming. If, as he suggested, old Bella had fallen all over herself to get at a piece of him, I certainly wouldn't have questioned the logic.

"Then I apologize," he continued after a pause. "Because I'm just not that sort of boy. I was raised to me a gentleman, Bella. Really. Shame on you for trying to corrupt me."

And for that I smacked his arm.

"Hey," he grabbed my wrist. "No hitting. Remember? Naughty Bella."

"On that note." I yanked my hand back and ordered my stomach to get a handle on the butterflies drunkenly flapping about inside me. "You need to get back on task, mister. This mysterious brain isn't going to read itself."


	29. Chapter 29

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience._

__**_A/N: _**If you haven't heard, I've started a new fic: The Debt. EPOV. Check it out and let me know what you think.

* * *

**Chapter 29**

**Day 4**

**Jungle spring - Afternoon**

**12 Survivors (+1)**

"Bella, please. You need to take a break."

Edward held my shoulders when I slumped in relief, an answer to being released from the agony of his assault on my mind. Shoving a memory in or trying to tug one out—the result was a same. It hurt like hell and wore me out. I tried my best not to resist him. More than once he was definitely in there—I felt his presence invade me, penetrate my being, and coil around my spine. Nevertheless, we weren't really getting anywhere useful.

"We can't stop," I argued tiredly. I straightened up in my sitting position and looked on him pleadingly. "I just—I need to, I don't know, get used to it. I still seize up when I first feel it, but I can do better. I know I can." I had to do better.

Edward sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair. That always distracted me as I watched the smooth strands travel between his fingers. I'd felt that hair, and now I thought about it more than was normal to think about hair.

"This won't work," he shook his head. "We have to change tactics. If it takes me concentrating all of my energy on getting inside you, while you're suffering in pain, then the exercise is useless in any practical application. We need to find a better way."

"Don't give up yet." I moved forward to sit closer.

As I reached out and took his palm in mine, I realized this was one of very few times that I'd initiated contact between us. His clenched fingers unfurled for me. My fingers traced wandering patterns along the lines of his hand and I heard him exhale on a shaky sigh. I glanced up, finding Edward's intensely brilliant stare riveted to mine.

"Bella." That's all. He spoke my name on low whisper, and just that sound slid over me like hundreds of his warm, enticing fingers. I'd had these hands on my body just last night. For the life of me, I couldn't remember why we'd stopped.

"Tell me about us," I asked shyly. My eyes fell back to his hand to watch my fingertips play. "You've been a little vague."

Edward groaned when my fingers moved over his wrist. His forearm twitched, to which I hesitated. "Don't stop," he ordered in a sharp tone that was still quiet. I complied. "It feels good."

His eyes closed while I resumed my exploration of his warm skin that was growing darker with every day we'd spent out under the sun. The blue veins under his flesh were thick and pronounced, as were the muscles that continued to flex beneath my touch.

"We were best friends," I prodded quietly. This secluded area of the jungle was so serene—the water rushing up in the spring and running gently toward underground streams that disappeared under the vegetation.

"Yes," Edward answered softly.

"And then more."

"We were still very young then. Not even sixteen yet." He sounded as though he were trying to make an excuse for me, let me off the hook. My rejection last night, unintentional as it was, had cut him.

"So?" I released his hand, purposefully allowing it to fall to my knee, and took the other. I didn't look up as I repeated my exploration of his skin. Frankly, the pleasant little jolts and hums that ran from him to me were too much to resist. "We spent every waking moment together—"

"And the non-waking."

"And shared a great deal."

"Everything," he confirmed meaningfully.

"And you're in love with me."

Edward fingers encircled my wrist and held fast. I froze in anticipation. Perhaps Edward knew me well enough to predict my responses, but I knew very little about him. What I felt pouring off of him, however, was powerful. Certain it was my imagination, I could have sworn that I occasionally felt actual emotions communicated through the subtle vibrations that emanated from his energy.

"You owe me nothing, Bella. And I won't ask any more from you than I already have. What we had will always be special to me, but I can't and won't try to fit you back into that mold."

"Tell me," I insisted again.

Very slowly, giving me enough time to realize his intent and stop him if I were so inclined, Edward lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it sweetly.

"Alice needs us to return to the beach. Jacob is very close to mounting a search party for you."

"You're dodging me." I pulled my hand from his, leveling a disapproving glare.

"Not at all, little bird. But I'd rather more comfortable accommodations for this discussion. I promised you—I'll tell you anything you want to know."

I stood and regarded Edward thoughtfully for a moment. Until the crash, I'd lived my life—the part of it I was sure had really been mine—cautiously. I'd never sought trouble, and therefore had avoided risk. The consequence was that I'd also missed out on geting to know who this Bella really was. How much could I understand of myself, fake memories or not, if I'd lived two decades without adversity, loss, heartache, adventure, or the sort of bone-deep fear that had so frequently found me here?

I had learned more about myself and the depth of my character in the last four days than I could reasonably claim prior. Edward was not a small part of that. The exhilaration I felt in his presence, held in his gaze, and under his touch, was more emotional and physical response than I'd felt toward any man. He ignited me like the dormant flames of a volcano. I'd been bubbling for days. Primed for an eruption. And for once in my life, I wasn't going to resist the unknown. If I were ever going to assume a complete identity where the old Bella and new could exist as one person, I had to find a way to fit those pieces together.

"Turn around," I told him as he stood and brushed off his pants. Edward furrowed his brow curiously. "Do it."

As he complied, I pulled my shirt over my head and discarded my pants. In only my underwear, I walked toward the spring. It was cold—more so than I would have liked—but I forced my legs to carry me in up to my shoulders.

"Bella?" Edward still gave me his back, though there was no way he'd not interpreted the sounds of me undressing.

"Come on in, ace. The water's fine."

Edward turned to face me. I reached my hands out of the water to pour a handful over my hair. His throat convulsed on a hard swallow as his eyes slipped from mine to take note of my bare shoulders, save for the bra straps. Edward's sharp gaze felt hot over my skin, including the parts of my body concealed under the cold water. I watched his demeanor shift as it had last night. There was something he wanted, and there was no way he wouldn't come after it.

The sun was barely holding out against the darkness. The spring was now shrouded in shadow and dark, intimate privacy. We were going to be conspicuously late to return to the beach. But I happened to have a secret weapon who knew just how to smooth over the consequences.

"I marched all the way out here," I continued. "I'm lot leaving without enjoying a salt-free bath."


	30. Chapter 30

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience._

**_A/N:_**A few announcements to get through. First, **The Debt** is up on the weekly poll at **The Lemonade Stand **(www dot tehlemonadestand dot net). No, that's not a typo. Go vote. And if you haven't started on that fic yet, please go check it out. Secondly, **Rare Purity** is back! I've started reposting chapters and will continue to post new chapters daily. I am overhauling the story in its entirety. Old readers will see several changes. New readers, this was my first fic. It has the vamps, wolves, and the whole canon crew. It is my NSFW version of Twilight with some major changes.

* * *

**Chapter 30**

**Day 4**

**The Beach - Night**

**12 Survivors (+1)**

Night had settled on the beach by the time Edward and I returned to the camp. A still breeze came in from the east, but Alice assured us that we'd have a dry night with no storms. Around the fire, the group ate our modest dinner without mention of James or any sense of uneasiness. It would be a long time before I got used to that feeling—like walking into an episode of The Twilight Zone.

"Holy shit!" I dropped the carved out coconut shell that I'd been using as a bowl and shot straight up to my feet. Beside me, Alice jumped and Edward stared at me like I'd grown two heads. "I'm such an idiot!"

I ran to the shelter I shared with Alice and started rifling through my backpack I'd brought on the plane. How I could have overlooked something so obvious was beyond me. Although, I guess all the blood and guts, hunger, thirst, and other survival concerns had trumped entertainment.

There at the bottom of my bag was the object of my desire. It had only been four days, not nearly enough time to drain the full battery. Triumphant, I returned to the group with a huge grin and my surprise tucked behind my back. The others looked on me expectantly with a mix of apprehension and confusion.

"I completely forgot I had this. I know it's small, and I have a limited supply to pick from, but does anyone want to watch a movie?" Excited at the widening eyes, I held up my iPad as the screen illuminated.

xXx

"No way," I argued as Emmett nudged my shoulder, "Picard is the best Enterprise captain. Hands down. End of story. Besides," I smiled, "Patrick Stewart is a knight."

"The original series is better. Come on," Emmett whined, "Spock!"

"I'll see your Spock and raise you a Deanna Troi," Garrett responded.

I'd turned the volume up as loud as it would go and propped the iPad up on one of the airline seats. We had the fire behind us with the group gathered in a tight circle to eagerly look upon the glow of Star Trek: The Next Generation. Since we couldn't come to a consensus on a movie, Jasper had proposed watching Season 3 of the series, which I had downloaded from iTunes for the ride to Australia.

The viewing conditions weren't optimal, but it was better than staring at each other and the never-changing scenery. After the first episode, Emmett and I got a little too wrapped up in the story. Quietly whispering lines turned into quoting entire scenes. Emmett did remind me a little of Jonathan Frakes, in a way. When Carlisle chimed in to do his best Jean-Luc Picard impression, the group couldn't stop laughing.

By the third episode our viewing party became an episode of RiffTrax, like Mystery Science Theater, as we completely talked over the dialogue to crack jokes at the 1980s wardrobe, hair, and general silliness of a sci-fi soap opera.

"Could you keep it down? You're not that funny." Rosalie had her arms crossed and she sat hunched in the sand. She'd done her best to make it known she wasn't finding an ounce of amusement in the evening's big feature. "And if I have to sit through this stupid show, I'd like to at least be able to follow the plot."

"That's blasphemy," Emmett accused. "Star Trek rules. Don't knock it."

"Chicks don't get sci-fi," Laurent playfully mocked. That didn't save him our wrath. With the exception of Rose, the rest of women threw handfuls of sand at him. "Okay, okay," he laughed. "I'm sorry. I give in." He held up his hands, spitting sand out of his mouth.

The episode ended to groans from our audience. "Chill," I laughed. "I've got more."

"Please," Rose whined in her angry tone. "Anything but this. A little variety. "

I picked up my iPad and scanned through the video playlist. The others responded loudly to each option, booing or cheering for their favorites.

"Hey stop," Jasper called out. "Go back. You have Dogma?"

"Of course," I smiled proudly. I loved Kevin Smith.

"That," Emmett and Garrett answered in unison.

"I vote that one," Jake replied. Beside me, Alice shrugged.

"What's it about?" Tanya asked. She and Irina had been mostly quiet, but had gone along with the group for the most part.

"It has Matt Damon and Ben Affleck," I answered. Simple and to the point.

"Done," Irina smiled, pleased with the casting.

"Seriously?" Rose pouted. "That movie is stupid and it doesn't make any sense. Alanis Morissette is God? Whatever."

"Sorry, babe." Emmett ruffled her hair, to which Rose practically snarled at him. "You've been outvoted."

"Bella, you all are going to act out the whole movie, would you kindly shoot me now?"

I set down the iPad stood up. I walked around behind Alice and Jasper, easily pulling the loaded pistol out of his waistband.

"Whoa, Bella. What are you doing?" Jasper stood up as I got the weapon free from him. "Hand it over," he ordered with his outstretched hand. I paid him no attention, likewise the others scattering around me. "Bella, put it down. It's loaded. This isn't funny."

"Jesus Christ, Bella. I was kidding. Are you fucking psycho?" Rose retreated as Emmett came to stand in front of her.

"Little bird," Edward whispered. He stood beside me, leaning down to speak against my ear. "You don't want to hurt anyone. Give me the gun."

I ignored him, pointing the weapon toward Rosalie as I took a step to the side to find a line of sight around Emmett. The entire group shifted in reaction to me, Jasper and Emmett coming to stand between Rose and I. The others moved farther away.

"Bella, drop the gun." Jacob approached me with a rifle pointed at my head. "Don't make me shoot you."

I wasn't sure if he'd loaded it this time, but I ignored him just the same. All of my attention was focused on the present task. I couldn't have put the gun down if I wanted to.

"Edward," Alice called urgently. "Do something."

"I'm sorry for this," Edward whispered again.


	31. Chapter 31

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience._

**A/N: **Okay, I know I've been promising lemons (see above) since the start of this crazy story. You'll only have to wait through one more chapter before the kinky-psychic-eletro-naughty time happens. So hey, you have that to look forward to.

* * *

**Chapter 31**

"Isabella, my child." He came to sit next to me at the table. The doctor looked silly sitting in the little chair that was meant for a kid, not an adult. His legs were too long and he had to hunch over to look at me. "What are you working on?"

"German conjugations," I replied simply.

My sloppy penmanship scribbled over the worksheet as I kept my hair down over my shoulder, essentially ignoring him. I'd never liked Dr. Aro. He pretended to be nice to us, but he got angry with me when I couldn't do the magic tricks he asked for. I was a disappointment.

I was alone in the study room. Detention, actually. Everyone else had been dismissed to the entertainment room an hour ago while I had to remain here until told otherwise. I'd gotten upset with one of the others, he'd been picking on Alice and calling her names, so I sort of…I don't know…zapped him. It was probably only a few hundred volts. Anyway, I hadn't done it on purpose. I got mad and it just happened. Everyone knew I couldn't control it, but that didn't stop the doctors or teachers from punishing me.

"I understand that you had a little episode today," he prodded me. Dr. Aro had this way of making his voice sound soft and friendly, but we all knew better. If we didn't perform well in our exercises, he would become viciously mean. "You manifested a targeted electrical current at another classmate.

Yeah. And what of it? If I had the ability to shock and awe at will, I wouldn't be sitting here having this conversation.

"He made me mad," I muttered while continuing to fill out the answers on my worksheet.

"That seems to be a pattern," Dr. Aro commented. Brilliant deduction, genius. "Why do you suppose that is?"

I didn't answer. I didn't have one to offer. They were supposed to be the experts. I shrugged.

Dr. Aro shifted in his seat. I heard his agitated sigh. "What else makes you angry?"

Being here. You. The experiments. The rules. Everything. I shrugged again. If we wanted to know so badly, he could go talk to the shrinks. The doctors around here knew more about us and our abilities than we did.

"Are you inclined to be difficult, Isabella?" He was agitated now. I knew I'd be punished for my behavior, but I just didn't care. Dr. Aro waited while I flipped the worksheet over and continued with the second page. Sighing, he pushed back from the table and stood. I watched from the corner of my eye as he moved around the table. He looked up into the camera in the ceiling and spoke. "Bring in 6," he ordered. I froze.

We all had numbers, which referred to our rooms. Everything associated with us was labeled with the same number. I was 7, Edward was 12, and Alice was 9. Names around here were a pretense. I was Bella when I behaved, Isabella when I was difficult, and 7 when something bad was about to happen.

I kept my eyes on my paper, but my skin began to heat as I waited. A moment later, one of the assistants walked in holding Courtney by the hand. Dr. Aro dismissed the assistant, greeted Courtney in that falsely friendly tone, and brought her to stand in front of the table. I glanced up, searching her eyes.

"We're going to try a new experiment, Isabella. Perhaps we've been to understanding to this point, too patient. You undoubtedly have a strong will, and I wonder if perhaps we should have broken that sooner." He paused in circling the table and put his hands on my shoulder. I tensed immediately. My fingers began to tingle while my heart pounded.

I'd heard rumors of what happened to those who didn't cooperate or proved to be somehow deficient. Sometimes they'd disappear for a few days and come back not quite right. Others were just gone, never to return. Even Edward only ever caught bits and pieces in the minds of the staff. Everything was compartmentalized; no one person knew too much. No one department was privy to the actions and responsibilities of the others. They couldn't hide their thoughts from Edward, but they could hide the information in people he didn't have access to.

"So tell me, Seven, when you start to feel angry. I'd like you to describe it in detail."  
I looked up at Dr. Aro, fear and anticipation soaking into my blood. His eye smiled at me, because he enjoyed this. "Six, would you kindly hold your breath?"

Courtney closed her mouth, looked past me to the wall, and went completely still. I watched her chest, but it didn't rise. I implored her eyes to look at me, but she remained fixated on the wall.

"What are you doing?" I didn't understand. This didn't make sense. And why would Courtney just comply with such a ridiculous request? I snapped my eyes up to his. "I don't understand," I hurried to say. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just wait, child. Only another minute or two." Dr. Aro's vile sneer turned to Courtney. Slowly, her eyes transformed from calm to uncertain. Her fingers twitched at her side. Her pupils dilated as her eyes lost focus. She still wasn't breathing.

"Stop this," I demanded. I stood, not sure what to do. "Courtney, stop." But it was like she couldn't hear me. She didn't even look at me. "Stop! What are you doing to her? Breathe!" I begged of Courtney. I rushed her, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her violently, but she was just a rigid statue in my hands.

"Seven must be restrained," I heard Dr. Aro announce softly.

Immediately, two assistants entered the room and pulled me back. They pushed me down into a chair and held me there as I kicked and screamed, begging for Courtney. Her pale skin began to turn red. Her eyes became bloodshot. No matter how I pleaded, no one spoke a word and she wouldn't take a breath. I watched her turn blue and collapse to the floor, but still her chest wouldn't rise.

I tried to concentrate. I tried to muster up the will to make my ability react in some beneficial way, but nothing happened. I sat there, thrashing and crying as Courtney asphyxiated under the order of Dr. Aro.

"You disappoint me, Seven." Another assistant entered the room and collected Courtney's lifeless body from the floor. "Take this one to building ten," he ordered. "We'll have to start again."

Something sharp pierced my neck. The room spun and turned black.

xXx

"Bella, can you hear me?" Edward's voice found me in the darkness. I felt as though I'd been wandering alone and lost for hours.

"Her pulse slightly faster," Carlisle stated. I felt his fingers pressed under my jaw. "She's conscious. Perhaps you should try now."

Something stung under my nose and I winced. The smell was atrocious. I shook my head, swatting away whatever it was. My eyes opened to find Carlisle at my side, kneeling in the sand. Edward hovered over me, visible only by the bluish light of the moon and stars. He brushed his fingers over my cheek, but his expression was tight.

"Why don't you sit up," Carlisle suggested. "Take some water."

"What's going on?" I glanced around. Jasper and Jacob stood over us, both with rifles at their sides, fingers on the triggers. Alice hovered to the side. I pushed myself up from the sand to sit. "Edward?"

He passed me a bottle of water and urged me to drink. I took several big sips and handed it back to him. "What do you remember?"

My hand reached to my neck, feeling the phantom sting, but there was nothing there. I thought about the room, Courtney, and Dr. Aro. I didn't know them. I didn't recognize them. For that matter, I had no idea where I had been.

"Bella?" Edward leaned forward, cupping my cheek with curiosity in his eyes. "Talk to me."

Carlisle moved forward. He took my wrist and held it for a moment to check my pulse. "Look at me for a moment." I did, following his finger as he passes it back and forth in front of me. "She's just fine," he stated. "Let her sit for a while. I'm going to check on Rose and the others." I watched him as he walked away from us, traveling down the beach toward the fire.

"I don't know," I answered. "I thought—" The images were escaping my memory quickly. Like any other dream, the seconds erased the scene with clean swipes that left little to articulate. "Never mind," I shook my head. "What am I doing here?"

"Okay, she's awake," Jake barked impatiently. "Now you both need to start talking."

"What's with you?" I looked Jake over. He was definitely agitated. What's more, the suspicious way he watched me was unnerving. "And what's with the guns?"

"Bella, you grabbed the pistol off of me and pointed it Rose. Are you saying you don't remember?"

"What?" I tried to get up but Edward held me down. Just that little movement had Jake lifting the rifle.

"Put it down," Edward snapped at him. "She isn't armed. What danger does she pose?"

"I'm not real sure about either of you," Jake answered tightly.

Jasper put a hand over the top of the weapon, encouraging him to put it down. "Let's take a step back," he stated calmly. "Bella, what is the last thing you remember?"

I had to take a breath and think about that. I studied Edward's face, as if he could give me an answer, but he clearly had none. "We were watching Star Trek. The show ended and you guys were picking out a movie."

"How many times has this happened?" Edward's tone was quiet but demanding. He looked almost angry.

"Has what happened?" Everyone was asking more questions while not offering up any answers that made a damn lick of sense.

Edward eyes narrowed and a muscle in his jaw ticked. That had clearly annoyed him. "How many times have you experienced a loss of time since the crash? How many times have you blacked out?"

"Is that what happened?" Shit. "I don't know, I—"

"Don't lie to me, Bella." Edward cut me off sharply. His eyes bored into me, and in them I saw his fury building. "You told me you didn't remember anything right before the crash. Did you also lose time after you bathed with Rose and Alice."

That was just too accurate. "What are you saying?"

"You're not getting anywhere," Jake argued. "She'll talk to me. Just leave us alone for a while," he insisted.

"Not a chance," Edward growled at him.

"Give her a minute," Jasper countered. He eyed me in appraisal, though I didn't know what he might have found there. "We need—"

"No." Jake shoved Jasper's hand from his shoulder. "This stray has been acting strange since the day he showed up. He's been skulking around Bella. But what do we know about him, huh? Has ever once mentioned why he was in Australia? Or what he does for a living? I say we separate them. You," he nodded at Jasper," can take him. I'll take her. We go way back. I'm her friend."

Edward launched to his feet and moved to stand right in front of Jake. Jasper raised his rifle a little, but not past his knees.

"Edward," Alice warned. He titled his head toward her slightly, but kept his eyes on Jake.

"Calm down," Jasper urged both of them. I sat up fully and then got to my feet. There were too many guns and the tempers were flaring.

"You're right," Edward answered too softly and with too much composure. "This has gone on long enough. Jasper, why don't you take a walk with Alice."

"Maybe—" She interjected, but Edward shot her a look and she swallowed the rest of her statement.

"What are you doing?" Jake watched Jasper and Alice walk away without acknowledging him. "What the fuck was that?"

"Tell me," Edward continued. He angled his face slightly to one side, studying Jacob. "What do those numbers mean to you?" Jake went still. "I haven't discerned any patterns. They aren't mathematical and they aren't map coordinates. But they must have meaning to you. How so?"

"What are you getting at?" Jake gripped his gun a little tighter. His expression dropped to something flat and stoic. It was a mask, but what it concealed was the real question.

"Edward." I approached them, increasingly concerned where this may lead. "What do you hear?"

"See," he answered me, "that's just the thing. I hear numbers and letters, but nothing underneath. Someone has trained you," he accused Jacob thoughtfully. "Who?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he answered blandly.

"Tell me who trained you," Edward tried again. Jake remained perfectly still, not uttering a word. Edward continued to stare at him with greater concentration. "Give me the gun," he finally demanded. At once, Jacob handed the rifle to Edward. "When were you born?"

"Three July ninety-two," Jake answered immediately.

"What is your full name?"

"Jacob William Black," he stated without hesitation.

"Whom do you work for?"

Nothing. Edward had Jake in whatever mental state was required to pull the information from his mind, but certain details, certain commands went ignored and unfulfilled. He was right after all. Jacob Black was who he claimed to be, but also something more. And whatever he kept concealed, by whatever means, it wasn't good for us.

"How is he doing this? Why doesn't it work?"

"I don't know," Edward admitted. I took his hand in mine, but Edward held me behind him."

"The next time you touch her," Edward practically whispered, "the next time you get in my way," he leaned in close to Jake's ear, "I'll kill you." Edward turned his attention to me, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck. I couldn't fathom what he was thinking, but the sensation of energy that surrounded us was overwhelming and very powerful. "You're tried," he instructed Jake while never taking his eyes from mine. "Go back to your shelter and sleep. Bella's actions were just a poor practical joke due to stress. She's very sorry and you're satisfied on the matter."

After Jake left us, Edward laid the rifle in the sand at his feet. He ran his hands down my arms. "You and I need to talk," he informed me.

"Edward, I really don't know what happened. I don't remember pulling a gun on anyone. Why would I do that?"

"I know," he assured me. Edward coaxed me closer. I tiredly wrapped my arms around his back, resting my cheek against his chest. "We'll talk. But first I need to tend to the others. Will you go back to my shelter and wait for me there?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Little bird?" He pulled back slightly to meet my eyes. "This isn't your fault. Don't forget that, okay?"

Easier said than done. I kept breaking things, and Edward kept cleaning up the mess in my wake.

"I'm determined to change your mind." He slid his hand up my neck and into my hair. "And whatever life you want after we leave here, I will see that you have it. No more doubts." Edward leaned forward, our lips just centimeters apart as he exhaled against my skin. He hesitated there, remaining perfectly still.

"Please," I whispered.

His warm, tender lips sealed over mine.


	32. Chapter 32

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

_Story Notes: Story will contain explicit language. There will be graphic lemons. Intended only for mature audience. This story is AH and characters are OOC._

* * *

Soon enough, I heard footsteps shuffling in the sand outside Edward's shelter. However, it was Alice who ducked under the tarp canopy, not her brother.

"What happened?"

"Edward did his thing," she waved her hand through the air. "All is forgiven and swept under the rug." But I detected the note of irritation in her voice.

"Alice?"

She took a deep breath and shifted around inside the small space to sit cross-legged. "I should have seen it coming. I don't know what it is lately, but I'm not seeing things clearly. The visions I get," she frowned, looking down, "they're getting less accurate. Half the time they're completely wrong."

"Edward said that your visions are subjective, right?" Alice nodded. "Don't worry about it. This has got to be right up there among the more stressful and unpredictable situations."

"I guess." Her tone told me she wasn't placated in the slightest. Truthfully, if our psychic was on the fritz, we did have a problem. As much as it wasn't fair to put so much pressure on Alice, we needed her help if we hoped to make it off the island.

"I feel like we're going about this all wrong," she said. "Something is just…off. We're missing something, and I don't know what that is or even where to start. I just have this gut feeling that we're making a mistake."

"How so?"

"I don't know. Not telling the others sooner, maybe. Waiting this long. We could have just gone into the compound, let Edward convince them to let us use the radio and leave, and maybe we'd be home by now. We've spent years tracking down others like us, looking for you, and disrupting their operations as much as we could while keeping a safe distance. We've had this goal to finally get the leaders somewhere secluded enough to finally end it, but what if that is our downfall? I can't see past these questions and I don't know if that's us or them."

It seemed that with every passing day, Alice had become less optimistic. I suspected that she was used to relying on her ability to guide her. Living as she had with her brother—on the run and hiding in a world that was so foreign and full of obstacles—it only made sense that she would have pinned a great deal of her survival on anticipating the impending conflicts and maneuvering two steps ahead.

Where I was clumsy and still a novice in the use of my temperamental power, Alice had grown into her psychic ability and learned to adapt it to her needs. To her, seeing the future was just as not supernatural, but as imperative as her natural sight.

"Jacob will be a problem, Bella. I've seen dozens of potential outcomes—not all of them successful. Frankly, there are too many inconsistencies and contradictions in my visions. I can't get a clear picture that makes sense. But in the visions that we board a boat, he is still not with us. In others, Edward does make good on his threat."

"Edward kills him," I whispered in resignation.

I knew now that I couldn't trust Jake. As far as we were aware, he was only biding his time before he acted on some ill intention toward the three of us. It was entirely possible he intended to kill Edward if given the chance.

"Specifically, Jacob breaks away from the group once we're inside the compound. He will betray us, but not to the Volturi. I just see the two of them in a small room with electrical equipment. Jacob lifts a gun toward Edward, but then turns it on himself instead."

At Edward's command.

"What about the others? The staff in the compound," I clarified. "What do we do about the rest of them if we aren't just going to leave the island and leave them to whatever the hell they do in there?"

Alice's eyes fell. When she looked up again, there was a sad darkness to her usually optimistic expression. "Bella, you need to get comfortable with the idea that there is no version in which this ends without casualties. You need to decide now if your life is more important than that of someone who would put you back in a cage."

"Alice." Edward ducked under the tarp and leveled his sister with a loaded stare. "If you're done…"

"I'll do my best, Bella. But I'm not letting them take me back. Not for anything." She crawled out of the shelter, quickly disappearing into the black night.

Edward came to sit inside next to me. "She isn't wrong," he admitted. The acceptance of this inevitable fact was clear on his face. The shadows that masked his features in the darkness only further added to his grave expression. "But you don't have to come with us. You can choose to stay behind. If we're successful, we can return for you when the boat arrives."

"I'm coming," I answered quickly. "Sitting this one out is not an option."

"I admit that I'll feel better to keep you in sight, but you would be safer here. We have weapons. Jasper could look after you if it came to that."

"We take a risk no matter what. Jacob won't leave this beach without me. So either you keep us both close or you leave me here with him."

"Not an attractive option," he admitted.

"So we all go. That's the only way."

"You always did have more courage than sense." Edward's lips turned up in a crooked smirk that was still just a little sad.

"Probably dropped on my head as a kid," I joked. My hand idly slid over my scalp to feel the healed scar.

Edward sat forward, appraising me in silence for a moment. I supposed I'd avoided this conversation long enough.

"Yes," I sighed. "I lost time, if that's what you want to call it, after I confessed to Rosalie. I still don't know what compelled me to tell her the truth. I definitely have no idea why I would have pulled a gun on her."

"Because she told you to," he answered flatly.

My head snapped up. "Excuse me?"

"In the water, Rosalie told you to tell her the truth. Alice recounted the conversation for me. And tonight she told you to shoot her. She was being sarcastic, of course. Nevertheless, twice she has issued a direct command and twice you have obeyed. I can't ignore that as coincidence."

"Is she—"

"Not that I can tell, no. Her mind is open and I see no intent to deceive me nor have I found any knowledge of a particular ability. For that matter, I've found nothing to connect her to Jacob or the Volturi. I'm at loss," he admitted with agitation. "For the time being, it would be best that you avoid her."

"Did she…trigger me? Did she say something that caused me to bring down the plane?"

"I can't be certain. I searched her recollection, but she gave away nothing of significance." I deflated with his announcement. For all we'd endeavored to discover, we were no better off than we started four days ago. "But it would appear, for whatever reason, it is only Rose who affects you this way. It is something we can't ignore, but the problem is manageable.

"Sure. I just cover my ears and run the other way if I see her coming."

Edward's eyes admonished me for my sarcasm, but I'd long since stopped caring about making light of our circumstances. If I remained overly serious for a moment longer I'd devolve into insanity. A person was simply never meant to exist under such constant confusion.

"Bella, before you woke up—"

"Yeah," I was reminded, "about that. I didn't actually blackout the last time. I didn't just pass out or anything. What happened?"

"I entered your mind. I expected that perhaps you'd resist, that maybe the pain would be enough to distract you. Instead, your mind was empty. Only the commitment to carry out Rose's command was present. So I told you to sleep."

"So that was you. Why would you give me that memory?" It was horrific, but I supposed it was relevant. Based on the brief explanation of events, I'd reacted to Rosalie just as Courtney had to Dr. Aro. "He's one of them, right? Aro is one of the men we're waiting for?"

"Bella?" Edward's brow furrowed as he shifted closer. "I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't give you a memory, only the suggestion to sleep. What did you see?"

"I was being punished for misbehaving. I have to assume it was inside the program. A tall man with pale skin and black hair—I knew him as Dr. Aro—killed a girl right in front of me. He told her to hold her breath and she did it. He killed her to try to get a reaction out of me." My skin heated again at recalling the dream. His callousness and sadistic sneer disgusted me. "Courtney collapsed right in front of me and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't make him stop. I couldn't use my ability at all."

Edward captured my face between both of his hands. It was only then that I realized I was shaking. He stared at me, searching my eyes urgently. "Bella, Courtney didn't die. She was still there when Alice and I escaped."

"That's what I saw. She was dead when they carried her away. I felt her there when I shook her. I heard the sound when her body went limp to the floor. Fuck," I bit out as the recollection fully took hold, "I can still smell him. He looked up into the camera and called for Six."

"You remember our numbers?" Edward hand's dropped from my cheeks and came to rest on my shoulders.

"I'm Seven," I stated confidently, "you're Twelve and Alice is Nine. Edward, you must have given me that memory. Maybe you didn't intend to, but—"

"It doesn't work that way," he interjected emphatically. "Things just don't slip in and out. I would have to consciously recall the information to exchange it with you. And if you'd been able to extricate it from me, I would have felt that. For that matter, I don't have any such memory. But I assure you, Courtney was alive when we left the program."

I growled impotently into my hands and collapsed backwards in frustration. We were getting nowhere and traveling there faster every day. "I don't get it," I shouted too loudly.

"It's all right. This is a good thing," he assured me. "You're starting to remember on your own. Maybe the details are a little jumbled up, but you're getting there. It's progress, little bird."

"Wonderful," I groused. "I wish you could just poke around inside my head at will. Maybe you could make sense of it all—put things back in the right places. I need a serious mental house cleaning."

"It's only been four days," he reminded me. Edward came to lie next to me with his head propped up on one hand. "Don't be so hard on yourself. The brain is a complicated thing. Some more than others," he teased. "Give it time."

"Can we try again?" I rolled to my side and faced Edward. "Get in there and take a look around, see if I can remember more."

He considered me for a moment then reached up to brush my hair behind my ear. "You've done enough for today. We can try again tomorrow."

"But I wanna," I whined exaggeratedly. Edward laughed, shaking his head. "Please?" I begged, pouting for effect. Maybe I was a little punch-drunk, or just cracking under the pressure. Perhaps my slip into senility would be a pleasant one.

"I don't enjoy the fact that I only offer you painful reminders of a past that perhaps it is best you've forgotten. I don't think you appreciate how lucky you are to not be haunted by those reminders."

That sobered me up a little. I hadn't stopped to think that the rest of our past that existed outside the banalities of childhood weren't so pleasant for him to constantly recall.

"Then show me something that doesn't suck," I encouraged him with a hopeful grin. "Show me something that makes you happy."

"Hmm," Edward hummed thoughtfully. His eyes trailed my face and then slid over my entire body. I quite poignantly felt the heat of his gaze slid across my skin. "Maybe we should stick to Mandarin translations. I'm not sure you want the truth."

"Uh-huh," I challenged. "Cough it up. What puts that crooked smirk on your face? It isn't nice to toy with me."

"But you used to like it." Edward again brushed my hair back, this time exposing my shoulder and trailing his fingertips delicately over my collarbone. "You certainly amused yourself at my expense quite often."

"I'm sure you deserved it," I shot back. "Besides, didn't you know? I'm hilarious."

"You were and are a troublesome girl, little bird. And you enjoy teasing me." His fingers slid down my arm. "But under all of that bravado is a shy little girl whose should get some sleep." Edward's hand stopped at my hip and curved to hold on.

Right on cue, I felt my face flame. I let my eyes fall from Edward's face to his chest. Whether he could read my mind or not, I felt vulnerable when he looked at me like that, as if my every thought was written plainly across my forehead.

"I'm not tired," I argued without much conviction. I was exhausted.

Edward moved to his back and encouraged me to rest my head against his chest. "You're a terrible liar." Edward brought my hand up to rest over his heart. "Sleep, little bird. And have sweet dreams."

I drifted off faster than expected.

xXx

"Come on," I tugged his arm as I led us running down the hallway. At the corner, I stopped to peek my head around the wall. Sure, it was pointless to be sneaky when cameras observed our every movement from above, but that wasn't quite the same as actually getting caught. "Let's go."

We rounded the corner and darted toward his room. Sometimes I wondered if they actually watched the video feed or it was just there as a deterrent. Maybe they just didn't care that much as long as we still played within their pre-established parameters, whatever those were.

"Bella, you're still on restriction for that stunt last week," Edward lectured me again. I ignored his attempt to persuade me against this. I threw open his door, kicked it closed behind us, and shoved him up against it. "Bella—"

"Don't want to hear it."

I dug my fingers into his messy hair and yanked his lips down to mine. If he had any instinct to protest, it was lost the moment our mouths met. Edward grabbed my hips, pulling me flush against his body as we kissed hurriedly. We didn't have long before they'd realize we were missing. Not that I gave a damn about getting caught. Edward was the favorite, so they wouldn't punish him. As for me… Well, maybe I'd decided a long time ago that I'd rather live for enjoyment than in fear of the rules.

Deference had never been a natural concept for me.

"You're trouble," Edward whispered against my lips. His voice held humor even as he bit at my lip and used his strength advantage to walk me backward. "Skipping out on your session while get you more than just a few hours of detention."

"Don't care." Since I liked the direction we were headed, I let Edward think he was leading me. He tried to put distance between us, but I just dragged him with me as I sat on the edge of his bed. "This is more fun."

"Bella—"

I was tired of Edward rationalizing. To shut him up, I broke our kiss for only a moment while I yanked off my shirt. I didn't give him time to stare as I captured his mouth again, our tongues sliding together while I slid back on the bed and took him with me.

"You really want to do this now?" Edward hovered over me, that crooked smirk tilting his lips to one side. I just nodded, tugging at his shirt to get it out of the way. He sat back and raised his arms to let me pull it off and cast it aside. "Someone could come looking for us. They could walk in here."

"Performance anxiety?" I bit my lip to keep from smiling.

Edward narrowed his eyes at me, sweeping them down to get a good look at my chest. One fingers trailed down my neck to my shoulder and then between my breasts.

"I want you to be sure," he answered softly. "I don't want you to—"

"Please, Edward. I'm ready. Now. I want to."

He brought his vibrant green eyes back to mine. I couldn't stop myself from blushing when he looked at me that way. Not for the last time I wished I could do half the fancy tricks they all expected of me, not the least of which was getting into his head. Though he'd never been able to read my mind, it felt as though he could discern everything he needed to understand about me with just one look.

"I love you, Bella. I always will."

"I love you," I answered sincerely. Edward had been my best friend since before I could really remember. It had always just been.

Leaning down, Edward placed his lips gently over mine. I arched my back to allow his hands to unclasp my bra and pulled it down my arms. While his mouth moved down my neck, his hands found my breasts, kneading and caressing me tenderly. We'd messed around before, but this was different. His touch was soft and teasing, passionate, but not frantic. When he moved lower, taking one nipple into his mouth, I arched into him.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered against my skin.

My hands slid across his shoulders and then into his hair, holding him to my breast while his tongue flicked over the little peak and he sucked just hard enough to make me feel it all the way to my toes. Edward breathed a heavy sigh as he moved to the other to repeat his ministrations. I felt his fingers find the button on my jeans, release it, and then slide the zipper down. Slowly, he kissed down my stomach to each hipbone.

Staring up at me, Edward paused.

"What?" I asked as I propped myself up on my elbows.

"You're perfect," he answered with a smile.

I laughed, shaking my head. "I'm dysfunctional."

"You're exquisite and I'll send anyone who says otherwise running headlong into a wall."

I laughed again, so at ease considering Edward was peeling me out of the last layers of my modesty. Admittedly, I'd never really had much to begin with. Edward had just started to experiment with a new theory on his ability. He hadn't figured it out just yet, but Edward was convinced that if he would draw thoughts out of the mind, he could just as sure put one in. And then he'd be a very dangerous man.

"Concentrate," I told him as my jeans and underwear were tossed aside. "What am I thinking right now?"

Edward smirked, running his hands up my thighs. His fingers gently slid over my sex, cupping me as one of his fingers pressed inside just slightly. I arched up again, tensing around his digit.

"Does that feel good?" He slowly slid his finger in and out just an inch or two, but it was enough to make my head collapse back to the pillow.

"Mmm-hmm." I bit my lip, trying to remind myself to keep my voice down.

"Is this what you wanted, little bird?" His finger entered me a little deeper as the heel of his hand pressed against my clit. I moved against his hand, grinding to find friction and encourage him.

"Actually," I breathed out in staccato syllables, "I want you to take your pants off." I opened my eyes to find Edward fixated on watching our connection. "You really are a terrible mind reader."

"Then you'll just have to talk me through it," he quipped, thrusting his finger with a bit more purpose. "Tell me what you want."

"More." I swallowed thickly. My mouth was going dry from breathing so hard. "Harder. Please."

He slid another finger inside me. I whimpered at the pleasurable intrusion and increased feeling of being stretched around his fingers. I felt how wet he was making me, each penetration coming easier as he slipped in and out. After a moment, I felt Edward shift and looked up. He'd undone his jeans and pushed them down far enough to release his himself. It was the first time I'd ever actually seen it. I'd jerked him off before, but we'd fooled around in the dark at night when the light shining under his door would have attracted attention.

Though I'd felt his erect dick in my hand, I'd never really consider his size. Not that I had anything to compare it too, but Edward's was… big, and thick, and actually sort of…pretty. I'd save that choice of words for myself. I was sure that Edward wouldn't appreciate my evaluation.

He stroked himself firmly while he concentrated on fingering me. Likewise, I was sort of mesmerized by the action of his hand fisting his shaft and running up and down the length.

"Oh, yes." My head was thrown back again. My thighs trembled as a brilliant convulsion coursed through my muscles. "Edward, right there. Faster. Keep going." I was so close. My hips jerked against his hand of their own volition. A few more seconds and I was moaning past my front teeth embedded in my bottom lip. "Damn, you're good at that."

"Add it to the list," Edward replied smugly. I slid back and pulled off his jeans before crawling back up the bed to hover over me again. His weight was supported on one forearm while the other brought my knee up around his hip. I was fully awake when I felt the rigid head of his dick pressed against my sex. "Are you sure, Bella?"

"Yes," I answered emphatically. "I want to. With you."

Edward brought his lips to mine again, sucking the bottom one into his mouth. He kissed me deeply and all I could do was hold my breath in anticipation.

"Happy almost birthday, little bird."


	33. Chapter 33

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

**A/N: **I'm happy to announce that **The Debt** has been nominated for an **Engergize W.I.P Award** in the "**Most Promising Twilight Fanfiction ~ Canon**" category. Voting begins on July 13:  
www*energizewipawards*blogspot*com/2011/09/nominee s*html

* * *

When my eyes opened to the darkness, Edward was staring at me. I lay across his chest, my leg tangled between his, and my hand gripping his shirt. His fingers trailed down my thigh and back up again, scorching me like the charred remnant of a lightning strike. He was barely visible in front of me, but I interpreted everything I needed to know by the pace of his heart beating under my cheek and the humming of energy that surrounded us. For that matter, I could feel his excitement twitching against my leg.

"I didn't know how else to tell you," he admitted carefully. "There never seemed to be a right way to broach the subject, but you needed to understand."

"You were my first," I whispered. Edward didn't respond, but his fingers halted and flexed at the back of my thigh. "My only," I corrected. I swallowed hard and let that little fact sink in.

Congratulations, Bella. You're not a twenty-three-year-old virgin after all. I wasn't quite sure how to feel about that. Sure, now I remembered, sort of. But imagine how Edward felt.

"You're remarkably susceptible in your sleep. It takes almost no effort at all to share my thoughts with you when your subconscious is open and you don't try to fight me." He swept my hair over my shoulder, letting his fingers linger on my neck. "I hope you won't think I've taken advantage of you, but I—"

"No," I interjected quickly. I pushed myself up a little to meet him at eye level. "I'm…I'm glad it was you. I'm glad it was someone I loved, my best friend. I can't regret that. I don't."

"Loved," he repeated, picking out the past tense as the only significant portion of my words. He so easily accepted this defeat, though he'd waited years and persisted until he'd found me. Frustrating man.

I rose above him, planting my hands on either side of his head. I stared down until the dark outline of his masculine jaw and strong cheekbones were just visible to my acclimating sight. Slowly, tentatively, he slid his hands to my hips and held on firmly. Edward adjusted under me, shifting until I straddled one of his legs. I could feel his energy wrapping around me, his body anticipating my next move. Though I hadn't possessed any memory of our intimacy, by body instinctively knew him. There had never been awkwardness in the way we touched. It was muscle memory. A slow burn traveled down my spine and into my extremities.

Failure in our eventual mission of escaping this island unscathed, or at all, was a very real possibility. Alice's vision saw a boat, but not even the psychic could pretend certainty that the boat offered rescue and not a long trip back to a tiny cell. So if I had only hours left, one day of freedom to enjoy, I should make it count for something.

Leaning in, I pressed my lips under Edward's jaw. His chest rose on a deep breath and then deflated on a muffled groan. He tilted his head back, allowing me room to explore. I did so, skimming the rough texture of stubble to the soft skin at his collar. When I pulled away to look at him, Edward's eyes were barely open. His fingers dug into my hips, pushing the fabric of my shirt away until he met my bare skin.

"Bella…"

I sealed my lips to his. Like it always was, electricity alighted my flesh. My lips tingled, my limbs hummed when our mouths met. I licked at his bottom lip, to which he opened and allowed me to taste him. Our kiss was slow, searching, retracing our steps through a memory that was a little uncertain but clearing with every step.

When I dragged my teeth across his bottom lip, Edward groaned and flipped me over to settle between my legs. Everything changed. He burrowed his fingers in my hair, tilting my head to hold me in position to accept his seeking tongue. The kiss deepened and became more forceful. My hands reached for his back, finding their way under his shirt to tightly grip the muscles that flexed there. His skin was so soft, warm, his body firm.

From that moment on, my actions were exclusively driven by physical need. I gave not a moment's pause to rational thought as I tugged Edward's shirt until he lifted his arms to let me pull it off. I sat up, immediately running my hand over his broad shoulders, defined chest, and muscled abdomen. What my eyes couldn't discern in the dark, my fingers learned in detail. I traced the narrow trail of hair from his navel to the top of his shorts, feeling his stomach react to my touch.

Starting again from his neck, I kissed his bare skin down to his chest. I couldn't resist flicking my tongue out to taste the hint of salt coating his flesh. I devoured him like a starving woman who'd been denied a meal for far too long. I was practically ravenous as I dragged my nails down his ribs. Edward hissed when I licked at one flat nipple. He grabbed my hair and drew my head back until he could reach my lips. Again I was pinned beneath him.

Without waiting for him to ask or debate boundaries, I lifted my arms over my head to grant him permission. He yanked my shirt off, carelessly throwing the wrapping paper behind him as he eagerly tore into his present. My bra went next, discarded without fanfare. He didn't halt to sit back and appreciate the view—we were both too impatient now. Instead, he grabbed two handfuls of my breasts and squeezed firmly, rubbing his thumbs over the sensitive peaks and kneading my flesh. I arched into his hands, biting my lip to keep from crying out. Edward attacked my neck, sucking at the soft spot below my ear, biting along my pulse, and licking a path down my throat.

Moving lower, my fingers combed through his messy hair. In one hand, Edward pinched and teased a nipple. His tongue licked at the other, flicking it rapidly until I was writhing beneath him, shaking in the stimulation. I fisted my hands in his hair, tugging at the roots because I just couldn't take the pleasure without every muscle tensing. Even my legs constricted around his hips and locked him between my thighs. Edward dragged his teeth over the hard pebble, sucking in strong pulls that were almost painful. He repeated his affection on the other side, trading his hands and mouth until I thought I might orgasm from his talented mouth alone.

As if he could read my mind and had just convincingly faked it all this time, Edward peppered my stomach with light kisses, nipping teeth, and that salacious tongue. He teased me, biting at the lip of my jeans while looking up at me under those dark lashes. My brain hit the eject button and checked right the fuck out. Nothing had ever looked so purely sexual and arousing as the sight of Edward staring up at me from between my legs.

"Take them off if they're in your way," I told him without trepidation.

One eyebrow rose just a little while that slow smirk slid across his sinfully delicious lips. It occurred to me, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I sounded quite a bit less like me and more like her in that moment. It was remarkably liberating to say exactly what was on my mind without concern for polite behavior or backlash. Edward, I suppose, brought that out of me the way no other person could. No one else had ever known me the way he did—completely and honestly.

More patiently this time, Edward released the button and dragged the zipper down. I lifted my hips to let him peel the jeans from my legs. Reverently, his hands smoothed up my bare shins and thighs, skimming the edges of my panties. He watched his fingers move, seeming transfixed.

"Don't get shy on me now," I teased. "You got me here. What are you going to do about it?"

Edward lifted his eyes to mine. Flexing his jaw, he considered me carefully. "It was a long time, Bella. I wish I could say…" he trailed off. I understood his meaning. I couldn't be upset with him, especially since I had only just learned of our past. If he felt any guilt, it was completely unwarranted. "They meant nothing. I guess that doesn't make it any better, but—"

"I don't care," I answered. "It doesn't matter. We're together now."

"Are you sure?"

"If you don't move it along I'm going to do something drastic."

He laughed lightly, shaking his head. "I really love you, little bird."

"Prove it."

At that, Edward tucked his hand in the sides of my panties and yanked sharply. The fabric broke apart, the sound of elastic and cotton ripping too loud amongst the dull noise of the ocean tide. Okay, that was something unexpected. Reflexively, I pressed my thighs together as my eyes dropped to the bulge in his pants. I bit my lip, considering for a moment every way I wanted to explore his body.

"Now who's shy?" he taunted. Edward tenderly dragged his fingers from my ribs to my hips, leaving excited bumps in his path. "Open for me." I just looked at him, sort of in awe, actually. "I've waited years and now several days to have you just like this, Bella. Let me taste you."

My knees fell open at his insistence. One hand brushed over my sex and down. He rubbed along my slit, his eyes following the motion. "You're wet," he murmured softly. I clenched when he dragged two fingers between my lips and barely grazed my clit. My hips rose to meet him. Edward hummed, "And so responsive to me."

He continued to tease me, torment me with the most delicate ministrations. I chewed by bottom lip between my teeth and tried to keep my voice from running away. I couldn't remain still, writhing against his hand when he slipped one finger inside me.

"Please."

"Tell me."

"I want…" I moaned, grinding on his finger and the heel of his hand.

"This?" He plunged another long finger inside me, pushing deeper, harder.

"Yes," I cried out louder than was prudent while still trying to maintain some control.

His fingers stretched me as my muscles gripped his fingers, pulling him in. I rode his hand, both of us moving at an increasingly greedy rhythm until he was fucking me harder with every stroke, slamming his fingers into me. My hands gathered fistfuls of sand through the blanket I lay on.

"Ungh—Edward—I'm—" My orgasm knocked me silent as I bit right through my lip and tasted blood on my tongue. My spine bent off the ground as my thighs closed around his arm, my walls clamping down on his fingers. He continued to pump into me in short, deep thrusts as I shook.

Every part of me felt too warm, too raw and sensitive. My flesh burned like bare feet on the rough sand baked in unfiltered sunlight, and every nerve was bright and thrumming. Before I came down from the explosive high, I felt Edward's mouth on me. He licked through my slit, lifting my thighs over his shoulders to bury his head between my legs. My hands grabbed at his hair, riding his face as he devoured me. His tongue plunged inside, penetrating me in short stabs that made me shake and quiver all over again. He moaned against my sex, the humming vibration working its way through me.

Edward gently peeled my legs from his shoulder, sitting back. My eyes were closed, my head lulled to the side while I tried to catch my breath.

"Bella."

"Edward," I mumbled breathlessly because I couldn't form another coherent word.

"You're glowing."

"Pretty proud of yourself, aren't you?" I laughed softly. "In all honesty," I swallowed past my dry tongue, "that was incredible. You're very talented."

"I'm glad you think so," he quipped with humor in his voice, "but that's not what I meant."

"Hmm?"

"Open you're eyes."

I reluctantly pried them open. The tiny shelter was filled with dim light. Edward's perfectly defined bare chest was beautifully visible before me. And then I looked down. Oh. I was glowing. Like actually fucking glowing. An aura of light emanated from every inch of my naked flesh—as soft white light.

"Oh my fuck," I hissed. I sat up, wrapping my arms around myself as I tried grabbing for my clothes.

"Don't," Edward snapped. I jerked my eyes to his, surprised at his harsh tone. "Don't you dare hide from me, Bella. Not now."

"Look at me. I'm practically radioactive."

"I am looking," he soothed. Edward deliberately pried my arms from my chest and took the side of my face in his palm. "You're gorgeous, little bird—completely unique and so lovely."

I looked away, all that previous bravery draining. "What is this?"

"It's you. It's a manifestation of your power, like the burns on my chest. Light, heat; they are the result of your immense energy."

"Last time…" I glanced up to look at him nervously. "Did I…"

"Yes," he smiled. "It was, uh, quite a show." His lips twisted into a crooked smirk as he apparently tried not to grin like an idiot. I rolled my eyes, inferring that he'd been pretty damn pleased at his ability to turn his girlfriend into nightlight.

"So you don't think I'm—I don't know—weird?"

"You're as weird as it gets." I scowled at him, daring him to test me. I wondered how many zaps he could take before he became sterile. "But," Edward added quickly while rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip, "I happen to like weird. I happen to like it a lot, as a matter of fact." His free hand found mine and moved it to place against his hard erection. My hand closed around the rigid shaft and squeezed. Edward's head fell forward. "Shit, Bella. I want you, lit up like my own personal constellation and all."

"Yeah?" I slid my hand back and forth, feeling him throb beneath my palm. His hips flexed, pushing against my hand.

A bit bolder now, I released the button on his shorts and carefully slid the zipper down. Edward shifted to sit and pull them off, finally naked before me. I couldn't help but stare. He was big, a thick shaft capped by a wide head dripping a bead of pre-cum. Absently, I licked my lips.

"Goddamn. Save that thought." What thought? I thought slyly. "I can't wait that long to be inside you again." He gripped himself firmly and slid his hand up and down, spreading the slick moisture over the tip. It momentarily distracted me from my LITE-BRITE skin. That would take some getting used to—in never.

Lying down, I brought Edward over me and wrapped my legs around his hips. He kissed me tenderly as he slid his cock through my slit, lubricating himself. "I'm ready," I whispered earnestly. "Please."

Gently, Edward entered me—just a little at first, and then pulling back to sink deeper. He swallowed my deep moan as my walls stretched to accommodate his girth. I was so full, so completely filled as he impaled me to the hilt. I took a moment to adjust to the intrusion, allowing my muscles to relax. Slowly, he began to move inside me, massaging every sensitive, needy surface with the warm slide of his cock. He was temperate but purposeful, slow but precise.

Hungrily, Edward's lips moved to my neck again. Lips sucked and teeth nibbled and he gradually increased his pace. "You're so tight. I can't—uhh—can't tell you how good this feels. I've missed you. So much."

I let my hands travel his shoulder and down his back, reacquainting myself with every plane of his strong body, and it was as if my fingertips had a gradual epiphany. Not all at once in a sudden jolt of recollection, but an image that became incrementally clearer as it came into focus. My body relaxed to him, invited him, and greeted Edward for the familiar soul he was. We were, as our bodies held and loved one another, as intimate as two people could be. And in so, I felt a great relief wash over me.

The past was still a muddled and vague mystery, but him, Edward, he was as familiar to me as my own reflection. The memories were absent, but the emotions associated with the years we'd spent growing closer poured into me as he penetrated my body. I felt our juvenile laughter, our adolescent precociousness, our curiosity, hormones, sadness, fear, and loyalty. I felt the nights we dreamed of the outside and loathed our imprisonment. And as tears began to fall from the corners of my eyes, I felt so overwhelmed with love and longing that my chest constricted and my throat closed.

I clutched at him desperately, my fingers digging into his back and my legs squeezing. We'd spent days together, but it was as though I was just spotting him in the crowd on the other side of the security barrier as I exited the terminal. It was that heart-wrenching moment of reunion that you anticipated for so long and yet somehow never thought would arrive. I was sprinting toward him, throwing my bags to the ground and running directly into his arms as sobs wracked my body. I lept at him, wrapping around him in an attempt to just meld inside his flesh and become part of him.

"Edward," I cried. "It's you. It's really you." Tears flowed freely.

"I told you I'd find you," he whispered over my lips, kissing me deeply. And just as softly, but clear as placid water, his voice filtered into my mind. "I never left you, little bird. I've always been right here."

"I love you," I sobbed, though the words didn't cross my lips. "I missed you so much."

"I know. Don't cry. I'm here and I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

What began as a lustful fit, simmered to a pure expression of love. Edward worshiped me with his body as I gave myself wholly to him. He adored me with his lips, flattered me with his hands, and made promises with his passion. We rode the building, swelling wave of reconnection until both of us were panting, approaching release. I trembled beneath him, my orgasm spiking. He levered up, driving his hips to plunge deeper, raised up on both hands.

"They're coming," he panted. I felt his body tense.

"I'm on the shot," I replied quickly. "Don't stop."

Edward groaned loudly, sheathing himself fully. I felt his cock swell, spilling warmly. He collapsed on top of me, breathing hot against my shoulder. "No. They're coming. Now. To the island. They're early."


	34. Chapter 34

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

**A/N:** So as not to turn this into the 9-hour trek to Mordor, here is a short chap before they storm the castle. The next one will be longer and full of action.

* * *

Before the sun peeked up over the horizon, Alice, Edward and I packed up rations of food and water for the hike to the other side of the island. We debated at length whether to tell the others. Was it better that they we offer the choice to risk death or capture with us than wait unwittingly to be ambushed on the beach should we fail? In the end, it didn't matter.

If we did fail in calling for rescue, the surviving passengers would not be left alive. Allowing volunteers to accompany us only created distractions. We couldn't defend ourselves effectually if we were concerned with protecting the others. The conclusion was a heartless and unfair reality, but reality nonetheless.

Taking one last opportunity to decompress and mentally prepare ourselves, Edward and I walked to the hidden side of the beach. My mind raced with a dozen fears, my muscles tense with anticipation. At the very least, I was no longer lit up like Las Vegas. With no more reason for modesty, we stripped of our clothes and waded into the surf.

What would Sun Tzu have to say about our impending mission? Our resources were less than limited, our location remote. We didn't have the option of fighting our enemy where they were not. In a few hours, we'd unceremoniously travel into the breach.

But we did have two things that Sun Tzu couldn't have imagined: a psychic and a telepath. For the moment, I still wasn't counting on my usefulness.

"You're thinking awfully hard over there," Edward remarked. He moved through the water, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me against his chest. My hands swept over his shoulders, fascinated by the sparking sensation that traveled between us. "Tell me what's going on up there."

"Can't you just do your thing and…" I flicked my wrist, waving my hand dismissively, "you know. That would make this all a whole lot easier."

"I have thought of that," he smiled indulgently. "And I will try. We have to be prepared for the fact that we might not be the only gifted people showing up to this fight. The program has had years to cultivate more like us. Despite the efforts of Alice and I, they have continued to grow their operations. I will do what I can," he assured while pushing my wet hair behind my ear, "but I won't be distracted by whoever stands between Aro and myself. We're cutting off the head," he stated bluntly, "and then the snake will die."

I stared at his wet skin, soaking in the warmth of his body while he gently slid his fingers up and down my spine. "I suppose, on some level, I did remember you. The first time you spoke to me in my dream. The first time I felt you watching me." I looked up, meeting his intelligent eyes. "I followed you to the cockpit and later into the jungle that night because you were familiar, even then. I guess I was waiting for you, I just didn't know it."

"What I said," Edward cupped my cheek, tilting my head back, "about the time we were apart—"

"Really, Edward, you don't owe me an explanation. I admire the fact that you kept looking for me all these years, but how could I possibly expect you to keep a promise like that? It was a pact between two foolish kids, remember?"

"I have always kept my promises to you, little bird." His thumb traced my lower lip. "You're still the only woman I've been with. I came close—very close—a few times, but I couldn't go through with it. It was that feeling, an ache that I was betraying you, that kept me going when it seemed Alice would never have another vision of you. I believed that if I could still feel such guilt, you had to be out there somewhere."

"But you said—"

"And you didn't let me finish," he reminded me. Oh, right. "I didn't come all this way, wait all this time, to let you go a second time." He held my face between both of his hands, staring intently into my eyes. "Whatever happens, I'm going to be right beside you."

"Alice—"

"She has her convictions and I will respect them. I'm her brother, and she'll do everything she can to protect me—both of us. But if the time comes, she'll choose her freedom and I'll let her. You, little bird, are the one person that I can't live without. I've tried, and it nearly killed me. I won't do it again, even if it means we're captured together."

"I'm not going to let that happen," I stated defiantly. "If they take us back, all of this has been for nothing. Helping me escape, searching, finding me here, and the rest of them that just want to get back home. No," I stated emphatically. "If the times comes, you do what you must to set me off. I don't care if it hurts." I grabbed Edward's hands and held them tightly, insisting that he agree. "Just like the tree," I told him. "And make sure you get out of the way."

"You're remarkable," he whispered as his hands slid down my neck and into my dripping hair.

"If we make it out," I said as I rested my cheek against his chest, "I'm coming with you. I want to see my dad, ask him about the night my mother took me away, but then we should disappear for a while. Whoever sent Jacob after me will just send someone else in his place. I don't want to be anywhere near Charlie when they do."

"I told you I wasn't letting you out of my sight. Wherever it is, we go together. That was always the plan."

xXx

The miles passed mostly in silence. I charted the passage of time in the slant of the sun's rays poking through the jungle canopy overhead. Unavoidably, my mind wandered back to the beach. I thought of Carlisle the first night be held vigil over his wife's body. I recalled the vacant, defeated look in Russell's eyes. I replayed in vivid detail the agony Peter displayed when Charlotte fell to the sand and the pistol dropped from her lifeless fingers. What a waste.

I traveled farther back, thinking of Angela in the airport terminal before I boarded. I wouldn't see her again. One way or another, Isabella Swan had died in a plane crash over the Pacific. Perhaps it wasn't wise to confront Charlie, to try to dig up what details of my past he could provide and fill in the holes, but it was a risk I had to take. But beyond a last meeting and a proper goodbye, I would have to use the cover provided to disappear. Even more unsettling than the thought of returning to the program was the unknown threat that Jacob's people posed. With Edward's inability to force the truth from him, Jake was the more imposing foe.

Edward held my hand as we trekked the long distance through the jungle. I could feel him thinking, planning. Likewise, Alice's gaze was distant. We stopped briefly to eat and hydrate, but it was a quick respite. It would take half the day to reach the compound. The faster we got there, the less likely they would send someone out to the beach looking for us. The only protection we could provide the others we'd left behind was a speedy conclusion, one way or another.

Along the way, I concentrated on trying to let Edward hear my mind. We had made a connection last night. For a brief moment, we'd communicated telepathically. Now, however, it seemed the channel was dead. Nevertheless, it was a tiny accomplishment. We had broken through a barrier, which I sincerely hoped was a sign that, when the time came, I could muster up the will to use my ability constructively.

He watched me out of the corner of his eye while I stared at my hand, trying to force something to materialize; light, heat, a little bolt of lighting or whatever. I got a few flickers here and there. Every time he brushed his fingers down my spine, my skin emitted just the faintest glow. For the next few hours, I had nothing but time. With that, I kept trying.

Abruptly, Alice and Edward halted. He looked at his sister, squeezing my hand. "He's picked up our trail," Alice announced. "I can't tell how far behind, but he's following us."

"Good," Edward nodded.

She could only be referring to Jacob.


End file.
